


Stolen Time

by Etoileskies



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I just want them to be happy, M/M, Panic Attacks, Persona 3 Spoilers, Persona 4 References, Persona 4 Spoilers, Persona 5 Spoilers, Rating May Change, Redemption, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Redemption, Spoilers, implied NG+
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etoileskies/pseuds/Etoileskies
Summary: Sequel toHeat Haze Daze.A cog of fate has shifted out of place. You both are prisoners to a future that has been sealed in advance. This is truly an unjust game... But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility to save him. The key to salvation lies within the trust you've gained and the hope he's given you. Now, tricksters, for the sake of your happy endings... Fight.He wished he could go back. He wished he never came across the Metaverse. He wished he could go back to a life before he knew the name Shido Masayoshi.But would it be worth a life without Kurusu Akira?Never.





	1. Ctrl+N

“…Are you listening?”

Akira flinched. All eyes were on him. Some curious, others suspicious, and at least one pair looked on with an emotion close to pity. He offered an easy smile and affirmation despite his mind being a million miles away. Makoto didn’t seem convinced, but Morgana came to his rescue.

“We need to talk about how to get out of this situation.” The cat padded over on the table and took stock of everyone’s mood. Ryuji leaned back against Akira’s pillows and gestured to an empty chair.

“Should we really be talkin’ about this while Futaba’s busy?” he asked.

Akira shook his head and cupped his chin pensively. “I tried to convince her to come, but she said she’s working on something really important.”

“She probably got another hit from Akechi’s phone. After all, the bug she planted confirmed it.” Makoto’s crimson eyes flashed dangerously. “He did indeed have an ulterior motive.”

“It’s on a completely different level than just that.” Ryuji interjected. “That bastard was ready to rat us out to the cops.”

Haru held her wrist in a deathly vice. It was a wonder how blood still circulated. “It’s not that simple. Akechi-kun was the one behind the mental shutdowns… The one behind my father’s death.” Her eyes blurred with unshed tears, but the Okumura heiress refused to let them fall. “I won’t let him get away with this.”

“Unfortunately, he’s holding all the cards.” Makoto admitted bitterly. “If we go into Sis’s Palace as he suggests, we’ll likely be met by a large ambush of police forces. Escape might not be an option.”

Yusuke visibly shivered. “To think he would be this far gone… I know now what it means to feel a chill down my spine. Furthermore, he wishes to bring a police force from reality into the Palace... ”

“If the eight of us can enter at once, it’s not inconceivable to think a larger group is possible. He may even be able to bring in vehicles or other special equipment.”

“So this really was just a setup to shift the blame onto us…” Ann lamented.

“He made us go after Okumura, then once we triggered the change of heart…” Morgana stared meaningfully at Akira. His blue eyes were filled with a mixture of accusation and pity. “He killed him.”

Akira gripped his knees hard. It was getting difficult to keep his expression neutral, but every ounce of truth thrown his way raised a bout of nausea in his gut. His friends tossed titles and labels around until it all turned into white noise in his ears.

Bastard.

Homicidal Maniac.

Murderer.

Morgana warned him he was playing with fire. He warned him that nothing good would come out of bonding with the detective, Confidant link be damned. He knew it was true. He knew he had no right to speak up—not when at least two of his friends personally suffered from Akechi’s part in all this. Haru lost a father. Futaba lost a mother. Could Akechi be redeemed after all that?

Should he even be given a chance?

_“If the time ever came and we stood on opposite sides, could you trust me?”_

Akira buried his head in his hands and groaned quietly. With the way things were going, either all of them would go to jail or one would take the fall. At that point, survival would all come down to the luck of the draw.

“Akira? Are you okay?” Ann gently shook his shoulder. “You don’t look too good.”

He smiled weakly and shook his head. “M’fine. Just…tired. Let’s stop for today. We can continue when Futaba’s free.”

Reluctantly, everyone dispersed knowing full well Akira was lying through his teeth.

* * *

“Pretty boy, pass me another bag of chips.”

Akechi’s eye twitched behind the stacks of paperwork he’d been staring at. While Futaba worked on perfecting a new algorithm on her computer, the detective reluctantly set up a make-shift workspace on her bed.

“There’s an unopened bag _right_ _next to you_.” He struggled to keep his voice even, but the pen curled in his fingers threatened to snap beneath his taut grip. “And isn’t that your fifth one!?”

“Chips are easier to eat while working,” she answered matter-of-factly before grumbling under her breath. “I should be catching up on _Mirage Saga_ instead of coding. Quick! Grab the CalorieMate under the bed! Apple jelly STAT!”

Scratch Joker. He was going to kill Oracle.

 _Breathe, Goro._ He thought and pinched the fringe of his hair. He wouldn’t be surprised if he started to see grey hairs sprouting. _You didn’t come this far just to lose to a NEET._

“Hurry up! I hunger!”

The pen snapped. He wouldn’t kill her, but there were multiple ways to torture an otaku. Akechi took quick stock of the figurines and books lining her shelves and felt the beginnings of a mischievous grin on his lips.

 _Not yet_ , He told himself and looked under the bed for her rations. Akechi blanched at the amount of snacks she had hiding. He couldn’t help but snort and assessed her small frame disparagingly. Futaba blinked innocently.

“What?”

“This explains a lot…”

Her face blossomed red and she spun in her chair. “H-Hey! What are you looking at!?” Futaba sat on her heels and glared at him from behind the tops of her knees. “Anyway, you have no right to complain! You don’t know how hard it was to sneak you in here!” She argued, but it lost its venom from stray chip crumbs that clung to the corners of her lips.

“Ah, yes. It was so hard to walk in while Sakura-san was working.” Akechi rolled his eyes. Nevertheless, he handed her the jelly bag and sat back on the bed. Futaba huffed and went back to programming. Akechi began putting his papers back in his bag. He wouldn’t get any work done at the rate she was making demands.

“Hey…” Her hesitation made him pause. “Are you sure your plan will work? I’m sure our favorite prosecutor won’t be too happy about this.”

Akechi crossed his arms and leaned back against the shelf. “It’s a bit unconventional, but it’s the only way I can guarantee Sae-san’s safety.” he admitted.

“At the cost of Akira’s life.” Futaba added as she continued her rhythmic keystrokes.

The corner of her screen flashed red for a brief moment before she caught the error and fixed it with the flick of her wrist. For a sixteen year old girl, her knowledge of the deep web was frightening. She could give trained professionals a run for their money. Akechi shuddered to think of how much she could hone her skills in a few more years.

“He’s aware of the risks,” Akechi explained. “That’s why he’s is our leader.”

“Yeah, Joker is our leader,” Futaba smiled ruefully and hugged her knees tighter. “But ‘Akira’ is just a high schooler.” Akechi couldn’t find any words to say as he stared into his empty hands. Futaba stopped typing and turned the chair towards him again. “You’re just like all those other rotten adults. The Detective Prince is capable of throwing everything away for his sense of justice. You must sleep like a baby.”

Akechi abruptly stood up and glared down at the young hacker. He expected the shut-in to back down. This was the same girl that couldn’t go shopping by herself after all. Instead, Akechi couldn’t help but marvel at the fire burning in her eyes. It reminded him so much of Akira that he instinctively took a step back.

Futaba sighed and awkwardly fiddled with her hands. “Sorry… That was unfair.”

“It’s fine,” Akechi shook his head and ran a stressed hand through his hair. He managed a sheepish laugh to ease some of the tension. “I suppose I deserved that. I haven’t given you much reason to trust me, after all.”

The redhead couldn’t help but smile a little. “That just means you have some catching up to do, detective.”

“In that case, let me start with this.” Akechi reached into his pocket and placed a black USB in her hands, as well as a folded piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Blueprints and research data I acquired, as well as an account number,” He explained and adjusted his gloves—a nervous habit he had yet to rid himself of. “Use it to get any supplies you need.”

“You’re even footing the bill?” She grinned cockily. “You’re already off to a good start.”

Akechi breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, I should get going then. I have some phone calls to make and you’ll have your hands full sorting through all that data. Will you have it done by the deadline?”

“Can birds fly?” Came her witty reply. Akechi shook his head exasperatedly. She spoke again before he could leave. “Why ask me for help? Why not Makoto? It would be much easier to convince her sister if you had Queen on your side.”

Akechi scoffed. “Even I could tell that she hates my guts. And besides…I owe a huge debt to your mother.” Futaba’s eyes widened to the eyes of saucers. Akechi couldn’t bear to meet her gaze, so he turned his back to her. “A debt that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay.” He heard the chair squeak twice before the sound of her footsteps stopped right behind him.

“You were there, weren’t you?” Futaba’s voice quivered. It sounded accusatory and desperate all in one. Akechi bit his bottom lip, hesitant to release the final bit of information that could affect this whole operation. Should he keep quiet? Or take the chance and tell her the truth? He took a shuddering breath and pulled out an additional SD card from his coat pocket. He turned and placed it in her hands before he changed his mind.

“This might shed some light on that.” The words felt like ash in his mouth, but he pushed himself to speak anyway. “You’re free to do what you want with the information. Copy it. Burn it. Share it. Although if you choose the latter, I’d prefer if you would do it after we complete our deal.”

Futaba’s hands slowly closed over the precious piece of plastic. A moment of understanding passed between them. Satisfied, Akechi turned to finally leave. It was only a matter of time before Sojiro checked on Futaba.

“By the way…” he paused by the door. Futaba sniffled and turned in the middle of wiping her eyes with her sleeve. His lips curved into a wicked grin as he pointed at a _Mirage Saga_ figurine on the shelf. “Shinon dies at the end of volume 13.”

“YOU FU—”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't had much time to edit but I wanted to get the first chapter out ASAP. Prepare for some similar dialogue to the game, but there will be some canon-divergences soon.
> 
> I may or may not edit the chapter a bit, so if you get an update notification and it's just me editing I apologize. It's just that I'm posting this instead of sleeping and I work a Saturday bartending shift in a few hours. Too tired to edit further 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter!


	2. Text-to-Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I’m going to apologize. The original chapter was running practically 6k words, so I decided to break it up into two chapters. If you'd like teasers and snippets of chapters while they're being written, feel free to follow me on my [Tumblr](http://escondig.tumblr.com/). This one is a bit of a filler compared to the next chapter, but bear with me. I need these two to be happy before I start tearing them apart ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Get ready for a very fluffy chapter

_November 11, 2016_

_This is a waste of time_ , Akechi thought as he stared disinterestedly at the Sayuri on the wall. When he received a text about coming to Leblanc he had hoped that they would secure the final leg of Sae’s palace. Instead, the rest of the Phantom Thieves were talking animatedly about their next Mementos run.

“Shouldn’t we secure the infiltration route first?” Haru’s eyes flitted nervously across the blueprint of Sae’s palace. “What if we reach another wall in Nijima-san’s cognition?”

“I think we’ll be fine. Sis already saw us in the courtroom, so that should have cleared up any other blockades, right Morgana?” Makoto asked.

The cat stretched out on Haru’s lap before nodding. “That’s right. So unless something drastic happens to change her cognition of us, then we should be fine.”

Everyone turned to Akira, who was busying himself by polishing the glassware and ceramic mugs behind the counter. He looked pensive. It was worlds away from arrogant and confident swagger that Akechi was used to seeing. “We still have a window of time for a Mementos run. It might be a good time to get some exercise in.” Akira glanced at Akechi behind his dark fringe. “It might be the last chance we get as Phantom Thieves, after all.”

Akechi innocently sipped his coffee.

“Arrrgh I don’t even wanna think about that yet!” Ryuji groaned and roughly tangled his hands through his hair. He glared in Akechi’s direction and grumbled. “Why do we gotta quit? It’s not like those shitty adults will change their tune when we’re gone.”

Beside him, Ann twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Won’t things get worse once we stop changing people’s hearts?”

“Like I said before,” Akechi turned to face the others behind him. From his position he couldn’t help but think he was chastising children. “As much as you think you’re reforming society, you are still forcibly changing someone’s cognition. Invasion of privacy aside, you’d be lucky to be sent to juvenile detention if it were up to a court of law.” After absorbing unwillingness to accept his deal, he added cheerily. “Unless you’d rather get sent to jail?”

“No, you’re right.” Makoto crossed her arms over her chest and sighed in resignation. “We apologize.”

“Loathe as I am to admit it, we _did_ agree to disband,” Yusuke popped another wasabi pea in his mouth. “It’s a shame. I drew much inspiration from our adventures.”

 **[You’ll be fine, Inari. Take me to Comiket and you’ll get all the inspiration you need]** , Futaba snickered over her laptop speaker. The hacker claimed she was busy again, but left her fellow thieves her computer to chat as she worked. Even now her screen showed her furiously typing away in her room. **[Or should I say…sinspiration, hehe**.]

“Sinspiration…?” The word rolled awkwardly on his tongue, but his eyes brightened considerably. “The concept of debauchery paired with enlightenment… That would be a fascinating subject to capture!”

“Dude…”

“Futaba…” Makoto scolded. “Don’t corrupt Yusuke any more than you already have. And remind me why you’re on video when you’re literally next door!” She then stared Akira down, who instinctively shivered at the sudden bloodlust radiating off the student council president. “I don’t suppose you have anything to do with this?”

He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t look at me. She wouldn’t even come down for curry this morning!”

“Does it even matter?” Ryuji shrugged. “So leader, what’s the plan?”

Akira pulled out his phone to check out his calendar app before coming to a final decision. “We’ll go to Mementos tomorrow after school.”

“Not today? We have enough time.” Morgana asked. His tail anxiously flicked side to side.

“I have to talk to Akechi. Alone.”

He leveled a steely gaze across the group, who couldn’t do anything but exchange worried looks and hurried goodbyes. The temperature of the room seemed to drop significantly as the others steadily marched out. Haru, who was the last to leave, offered Akechi a weak wave before following Makoto to the station.

Akechi nervously finished his coffee. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have gotten a refill. His heart was pounding and his palms sweat beneath his black gloves. Was Akira onto him? Did Futaba rat on him after all?

Without further prompting, Akira sat down on the stool next to Akechi and tucked his glasses on his collar. The detective sucked in a breath and prepared for the worst.

“I’m. So. Tiiiiiiiiiired!”

Akechi balked at his sudden shift as Akira practically collapsed into a puddle on the counter and grumbled pitifully. “First I get arrested. Then I face expulsion every month. And now Futaba bans me from her room! Is this her rebellious phase? Does she need an intervention!?”

How this man became the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Akechi would never know.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Kurusu-kun,” Akechi spoke after a brief pause to absorb his outburst. “And if you’re so tired then why are you approving a Mementos run?”

The dark haired thief turned his head while it was still resting on the counter. His lips were curved into a thin frown. “Akira.”

“Pardon?”

“A-ki-ra.” he repeated stubbornly.

“Ku-ru-su.” Akechi countered. His eyes gleamed playfully as he cocked his head to the side innocently. “I don’t remember agreeing to call you by your name just yet.”

Akira sat up and brought his face close to the detective’s. “I’m sure I can change that.” Akechi sucked in a sharp breath from the sudden breach in personal space. The thief’s hands slowly smoothed over his gloves and barely grazed the hot skin under his sleeve. Akechi could feel Akira’s hot breath inching close to his lips before he finally found his voice again.

“You’re quite pushy today.” Akechi commented simply. Akira blinked owlishly, not expecting his lackluster reaction. “It’s not like you to skip our usual verbal foreplay and go straight for the kill.”

“…Please don’t ever call it ‘verbal foreplay’ again.”

“I’ll stop if you tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

“I guess I can’t fool you. Sorry about that.” Akira’s façade shattered as he pulled away. His brows knitted together as he pinched the bridge of his nose. With the rest of his team gone, his calm and cool demeanor shifted into a more fatigued look. “The deadline is coming up and teasing you is my favorite stress relief.”

“As much as I hate to be reduced to ‘stress relief,’ it’s not entirely unpleasant to relied upon.” Akechi offered a thin smile. “To be honest, you don’t look all that stressed.”

“It wouldn’t exactly encourage morale, don’t you think?” Akira raised his arms and stretched extravagantly. Akechi could vaguely hear the sound of joints shifting and popping. “What kind of leader would I be if I always worried about the worst case scenario?”

“Are you always this ridiculously altruistic before stealing a treasure?” Akechi asked flatly, eliciting a disappointed whine from the thief. The detective quickly amended himself. “How can we trust you to cover our backs when you don’t trust us to cover yours?”

“I guess you have a point,” Akira agreed sheepishly. “I’ll try to tone it down when we go to Mementos.”

“Ah, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier,” Akechi scratched his temple awkwardly. “Unfortunately I won’t be able to go to Mementos with you all. I have an important engagement tomorrow that I can’t get out of.”

“Already trying to slip out of a date?” Akira leaned forward and rested his cheek on the flat of his palm. “You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet.”

“How about a rain check? I know a good café by Shibuya Station, although I’ll admit that it doesn’t hold a candle to Leblanc.”

“If we survive this, I’ll hold you to it.”

* * *

“I’m home.”

Akechi locked the door behind him before slowly taking his shoes and gloves off.  With the flick of a switch the ceiling light illuminated his small studio apartment.

For someone with his salary, it was less furnished than one would expect. He had a square desk in the center of the room with his laptop and cluttered paperwork decorating its surface. His futon was neatly folded in the corner next to the closet. The analog clock on his dresser read 22:18. His meeting with the SIU director ran on longer than he thought.

If he had to guess, the only thing that gave the place a spark of individuality was a small two-tiered bookshelf lined with a myriad of texts. He had books on law, psychology and politics, however he had a few choice novels tucked away on the bottom shelf. He would never admit he had a soft-spot for high fantasy. He could just imagine the shit-eating grin on Akira’s face should the thief ever find out.

“That’ll be the day,” he mused to himself and hung his coat up. A cool breeze caused him to shiver and he turned towards the source: a window he left open before heading out. He padded over to shut it. “I guess I forgot to close that…”As an added measure, he turned the thermostat up and sat on his folded futon. He was too exhausted to properly lay it out.

Akechi threw his arm over his eyes and groaned in frustration. The past couple days were possibly the most stressful he’s ever had. Because of his hectic schedule, he did everything he could to minimize stress at home. His apartment was flawless. Small as it was, it was a fairly new complex. He didn’t hear cats fighting in the alley. He didn’t have to listen to loud café customers throughout the day. His floorboards didn’t creak and didn’t even have to rely on a space heater for warmth.

So why did it feel colder than that dusty attic?

“How unpleasant.”

As if the devil was listening, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He was tempted to ignore it and simply relax, and for a while he did just that. Unfortunately, the phone continued to vibrate until he gave in and peered at the screen in irritation. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with the SIU director right now.

_[You have 6 New Text Messages]_

**Akira** : Get home safe?  
**Akira** : Helloooooo  
**Akira** : If you don’t reply I’m going to call you names  
**Akira** : Honey buns  
**Akira** : Coffee Prince  
**Akira** : Precious pancake boy

His cheeks burned as he read the string of ridiculous pet names that continued to spam his phone the longer he kept the thief waiting. Surely he would run out of ideas eventually, right? But when they continued without pause he furiously began typing a response.

 **Akira** : Detective Daddy  
**Akechi** : Please stop. I might have to format my phone after that last message…  
**Akira** : If you do I’ll just send them to you again  
**Akechi** : There’s just no living with you, is there?  
**Akira** : I’m sure we could work something out eventually

_Eventually_

The detective wondered what face Akira was making on the other side of the screen. Was he grinning in that infuriatingly smug way? Or was his smile warm and full of hope? Now that he was alone in his quiet apartment, Akechi didn’t attempt to hide his own longing gaze at the seemingly innocent text.

 **Akechi** : I can’t imagine how you’d be as a roommate.  
**Akira** : Great cook. Clean freak. Steady income  
**Akechi** : I’m not sure if pawning off treasures is considered steady income.  
**Akira** : Touché. But at least I’m devilishly handsome  
**Akechi** : Debatable.

Somewhere in the middle of their conversation, Akechi began to relax into the futon to the point where he curled up against it. He never had conversations like this before. He never knew how to interact with other teens his age. With adults, he had to maintain a level of intellectual maturity in a dog-eat-dog world.

 **Akira** : I should probably let you sleep  
**Akechi** : Coming from the guy that texted me at 2am once?  
**Akira** : I’m trying to be considerate here. Besides, you said you something important tomorrow?  
**Akechi** : I’m tired, yes, but nothing some coffee can’t fix in the morning.  
**Akechi** : Besides…

His fingers trembled over the keyboard. Days of stress and sleep deprivation were whittling away his self-control and reasoning. Before he could think of the consequences, his fingers did the work for him.

 **Akechi** : I enjoy speaking with you.

There was a long period of silence that roused Akechi’s sleep addled mind. His cheeks warmed at his confession, and he wished more than ever that there was an ‘undo’ option for text messaging. Before he could type out a weak excuse his phone vibrated in his hands.

_[Call Incoming from Kurusu Akira]_

_Damn, what timing is this?_ Akechi’s mind raced. He took a steadying breath and silently chastised himself. _Calm down! You’re not some hormonal teenage girl!_

 _But you’re a teenage boy_ , Robin Hood teased. Akechi pushed his Persona further into his head. They didn’t speak often, but when they did it was at the most inopportune times… Akechi cleared his throat and accepted the call. “Hello?” _Silence_. “Kurusu?”

Finally he heard a heavy exhale on the other side. “Hey…” Akira trailed off. Akechi tried to listen on any other noises in the background, but all he could hear was some white noise and the occasional shifting of sheets.

“Is everything okay?” Akechi tried to coax something out of the thief. Surely he didn’t accidentally dial his number?

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” Akira replied. The detective could vaguely hear him breathe deeply again, as if gathering his words only to exhale in what sounded like irritation. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I’ll hang up…”

 “No, it’s fine. But why the sudden call?” When he didn’t get an immediate response, Akechi dared to ask. “Are you…embarrassed?”

“Me? Embarrassed?” Akira snorted, but it lacked his usual swagger. Instead it was staggered and laced with uncertainty.

“You’re answering a question with a question. You’re deflecting.” Akechi heard him grumble incoherently alongside more fabric rustling in the background. The detective closed his eyes and tried to imagine the other boy. No doubt he was burying his face in his sheets or his pillow. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Stop profiling me over the phone.” Akira whined. It held a sleepy undertone to it that drew a yawn out of the detective. There was a pause before Akira spoke softly. “I like talking to you, too.” Akechi was rendered momentarily speechless at his quiet confession.

“Oh… That’s good,” Akechi replied lamely and lightly slapped his forehead for his stupid response. But how else could he reply!? It wasn’t like there was a book on ‘How to Seduce a Thief in 10 Words or Less’. He couldn’t be more thankful that this conversation was on the phone rather than in person. “Then… Err, well…”

“Yeah?”

Akechi couldn’t suppress a shiver. Even though the audio quality wasn’t perfect, the sound of his voice so close to his ear felt embarrassingly intimate. “Perhaps…we can make a habit of this?”

“Of?”

“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?” he huffed. The detective could imagine the smug grin on Akira’s lips just from the sound of his voice. Akechi cursed intelligibly under his breath and even louder when he heard Akira laughing. “Forget it.”

“But Goro~” he sang and laughed even harder at the detective’s grumbling. Akechi was tempted to end the call then and there, but Akira finally calmed down enough to reply. “I’d like that, too.”

“…I’m still going to kill you for your incessant teasing.”

“You can try.” The thief challenged. “Goodnight, Goro.”

“…Goodnight.”

As the line went dead, Akechi curled up into a ball on his rumpled futon. His phone slipped out of his fingers and glowed dimly before flashing off. Akechi closed his eyes and tried to will away the warmth that threatened to cradle him softly. He shouldn't have accepted the call. He shouldn't have answered his texts. He should never have continued getting close to his target after that rainy day in Leblanc. If he could, he would purge the image of Akira's brilliant smile, or the rare sight of weakness. He would forget the stories of a young boy in Inaba who brought his mother's glasses as his only keepsake.

Futaba would have a field day if she knew, considering on how much rode on their plan. Everything hinged on his actions after Sae's palace. 

It would all come down to a single bullet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are errors. I'll try to fix them if I find some after posting. Next chapter we'll go right into Sae's palace! I haven't written fight scenes in a while so it took some extra time to get it right. I'm going to try to have the next chapter out by September 2nd! Until then!


	3. Lady Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly 5k words later, chapter 3 is finally out. Sorry if it's a little confusing. Haven't written fights in forever.
> 
> I switched up a bit of Sae’s Shadow battle to make it a bit more exciting. Tbh I kind of wish her boss battle was a little harder, although it was pretty fun the first time I played it.

_November 18, 2016_

Akechi tapped his foot impatiently as he waited in an office lobby. It wasn’t uncommon to be called in under short notice, but the timing of it all grated on his nerves. Politicians were all the same. Deny them what they want and they’ll fight you until their last breath. Give them an inch and they’ll act as if they own you. The Akechi of the past would have torn through all their palaces without a second thought.

He clicked his tongue. He’s gone soft.

“Detective Akechi?” the woman at the front desk called. The large double door elevator behind her opened with the press of a button. “You can go in now.”

“Thank you,” he flashed his signature smile before going through the doors. The elevator hummed as it quickly ascended to the top floor of the building. Akechi tried to enjoy the cityscape through the glass walls, but his mind raced with every possible scenario that would go down in the next few moments.

It wasn’t long before the doors slid open. Akechi’s legs felt heavy with each passing stride until they brought him to a familiar office. He knocked three times.

“Enter.”

Akechi took a second to cement his mask on before pushing on. He’s walked into this room more times than he could count, but it would never change how uncomfortable it made him. It was a lavishly decorated office, even for a politician. There was a large bar situated on the left side of the office, complete with expensive wines and liquor. On the right was a seating area that looked more furnished than his studio apartment.

And right in the center was the man that started him on his destructive path.

“Care to explain why you called me here on such short notice, Shido-san?” Akechi asked. His voice carried a lightness to it that he wished he could honestly feel.

Shido leaned back in his chair and leveled Akechi with a stern gaze. “You’ve been slacking on your reports. It better be because you’ve made progress on dismantling those meddling thieves.”

“Such high expectations. I’m still just a high school student, you know.” Akechi laughed. “As for the Phantom Thieves, they are the least of your concerns. Everything is going according to plan. I hope everything is settled on your end?”

“The interrogation room is ready. Cameras are on a separate system and the officers belong to me.” Shido answered. “You needn’t worry if things get ‘messy’ in there.”

“Much obliged.”

The politician pulled out a drawer in his desk and rummaged through its contents before procuring a small silver briefcase. He unlocked the double hatches, revealing a dark handgun. Police issue Walther PPK. Next to it was a silencer to match. “The serial number is wiped clean. Same with the rifling. You know what to do.”

He could feel Loki buzzing in the back of his mind at the sight of the weapon. His persona thrashed and clawed at the chains that bound him. Akechi had long since sealed that aspect of himself away. With each passing day, he felt Loki slowly but surely corroding the bars of his cage. Robin Hood could do little to slow the process.

Akechi accepted the case and bowed his head in gratitude. Just as he turned to leave, Shido cleared his throat one last time.

“And Akechi?”  His hand froze over the doorknob. “You know what will happen if you betray me.”

“Don’t worry,” The detective replied without turning to face the politician. If he did, Shido would have seen the dark gleam of deviltry in his eyes. “I am fully aware of the consequences.”

* * *

_November 19, 2016_

If they thought the palace was infested before, Sae’s calling card definitely didn’t help. The normally bright colored casino was painted red. Alarms blared over the speakers and shadows patrolled the halls with relentless fervor.

Akechi never felt more thankful that he only joined them for Sae’s palace. He didn’t want to imagine going through this more than once.

Before taking the final elevator up the group decided on a last minute equipment check. Makoto aided Ryuji and Ann with their guns since they rarely checked their equipment for damages or malfunctions while Haru helped Yusuke and Akira sharpen their blades. Among the group, Haru was one of the greatest conundrums to Akechi. Despite her small stature and soft-spoken personality, she had the strangest fixation towards sharp objects (not to mention a morbid fascination with horror films).

While he checked his own equipment he felt a small tug on his cape. Futaba stood nearby with a scowl painted on her lips. Akechi offered her an easy smile. “Nervous?” he asked. She glared at him behind her glasses and punched him in the shoulder. “Violence doesn’t solve everything, you know.” She hit him again. “Hey!”

“I read the data,” she spoke just loud enough for him to hear. “ _All_ of it.”

“…I see.” he answered lamely. “Have you told him yet?” She shook her head. “Well, I must say I’m quite surprised. That begs the question then. Are you backing out? There’s still time, although I can’t guarantee Sae-san’s safety if you cut the cord on this operation.”

“It depends on your answer.” Futaba looked up at him with a fierce determination burning in her eyes. “What do you want? And don’t try to pretend it’s for fame or fortune. If that was the case, you wouldn’t have given me this data.”

“What I want, huh…” he chuckled softly.

He had a hundred answers planned, but only one felt right to tell her. He turned his gaze to Joker, who appeared to be laughing with his other teammates. He thought about the rowdy Phantom Thief meetings and the intense training sessions. He thought of how the howling winds and whispering wails of Mementos didn’t faze him as much as it used to. He thought of Leblanc’s welcoming atmosphere that made him think, _Ah…this must be what home feels like._

“I can’t say for certain. I’d call it a wish, of sorts. But regardless of whether that wish comes to fruition or not, I’m willing to take full responsibility for what happens next. I promise you that.”

She absorbed his answer with a blank stare before she giggled and slapped him hard on the back. “Good answer, pretty boy.”

“Will you tell them?” he asked.

Futaba merely shrugged and turned away from him, “Meh. As much as I’d love to see that red flag go down, we have bigger fish to fry.” She sent him a curious sideways glance before teetering off towards the rest of the group. “For now, the enemy of my enemy is my frenemy. I’ll deal with your side quest after this is all over.”

He blinked owlishly at her strange jargon before laughing helplessly. “She’s something else. They all are.”

* * *

“Alright, we’ll do this like usual,” Joker addressed the group. “Skull, Fox, Noir and Morgana are on containment. I don’t want any shadows interfering with the fight if we can stop it.”

“Got it, leader,” Ryuji grinned and rolled his shoulders confidently. “We won’t let ya down.”

“Crow, Queen, Panther and Oracle are with me.” Joker turned to the rest of the team for any sign of dissent. “Morgana will let Oracle know if any stragglers break through.”

“Oh! That’s right! Everyone take one of these!” Futaba pulled out a handful of ear pieces from her pack. “I already fit one on your collar before we left, Morgana.”

Ryuji grinned like a kid in a candy store. “Holy crap, these look legit!” He hurriedly tried to tuck it behind his ear but found it difficult to keep in place.

 **[Check. Mic check. Do you read?]** Futaba called. **[These coms act as a direct link to my persona. Even if you go out of my usual range, we should still be able to link up.] **

“Whoa,” Morgana flicked his ears and scratched uncomfortably at his neck. “You’re amazing!”

“Amazing is an understatement,” Makoto pat her gently on the head. “But how did you make this? Usually the only electronic that works in the Metaverse is the Nav. And this had to be expensive!”

Futaba temporarily shut the coms off and whistled innocently. “A little birdie helped me.”

All eyes immediately turned to Akechi, who simply flashed a princely smile. “Considering this particular Shadow’s penchant for mischief and games, I figured we shouldn’t leave Oracle’s Navigation abilities to chance.”

“But…”

“I’d rather we leave the explanations for later,” Akechi insisted to the group. “We don’t exactly have time on our hands.”

With everyone’s resounding agreement, they stepped through the doors.

The elevator groaned on its way up before the doors slid open. The final floor opened up to a giant dome. A giant screen came to life, revealing Sae’s sickly pale face and haunting yellow irises. Makoto couldn’t help but whimper at the sight. The other Phantom Thieves were tense and cautious. Akechi couldn’t help but scoff. Is this how they always acted in the face of a formidable foe?

“What kind of game will it be this time?” Akechi stepped forward. Unlike the rest, he was relaxed. He’s been in far worse situations like this on his own. “No matter what you bring out, we will emerge victorious.”

“You’re making a grave mistake if you think you have me cornered.” Shadow Sae smiled wickedly and licked her black lips. “I only guided you here because this place allows me to fight to my heart’s content.”

“Sis… Why?” Makoto pleaded quietly. “How did it come to this?” Sae lowered her head. For a brief moment, the shadow looked tormented and hesitant. “Answer me!”

“When my father died in the line of duty, I hated his killer from the bottom of my heart.” Her lips curled into a vicious sneer as she glared menacingly at Queen. “Dying to uphold justice sounds virtuous, but the ones left behind have to clean up the mess! Can you imagine the hardships I had to endure!?”

“Perhaps I had overestimated her,” Akechi scoffed. He didn’t have to fake the utter disappointment he felt. “I thought her reasoning would have been more noble somehow.” He’s heard countless shadows reveal their M.O.’s and resentments. Considering how highly he thought of the prosecutor, he honestly hoped there would be more behind her distorted desires.

Then again, he couldn’t talk. If he was capable of housing a palace, then surely it would be a grotesque construction.

Haru’s heart bled for the Nijima sisters. “This is wrong…” The wound of losing a loved one and being left to clean the mess felt all too fresh not to speak out.

Futaba’s sharp gasp drew everyone’s attention. Lights and numbers flashed across her visor as she analyzed the situation. “She’s lost control… Her stats are totally unstable! This isn’t like any of the shadows we’ve faced before.”

“Justice cannot yield to evil!” Sae proclaimed. “I must win, no matter what!”

“Justice?” Akechi challenged. His eyes narrowed dangerously behind his red mask. “This is nothing more than self-righteousness…”

“Self-righteousness? Is _that_ what you believe?” Sae raised her chin in utter contempt for the thieves before her. “Fine. All we need to do to determine who is right is to battle. Now, why don’t we begin?”

With the snap of her fingers, the platform shuddered and spun. Colored plates flipped open around them, revealing familiar numbered squares: a roulette wheel. Futaba nearly lost her footing, but luckily Ann steadied her in the nick of time.

“A clash of brute strength is simply uncalled for on this stage.”

Everyone turned and balked at the sudden appearance of Sae’s cognitive self before them. She drank in their shock and awe like it was a fine wine.

Akechi recognized that surge of power. He’s witnessed it over and over again during his experience in Palaces. His lazy posture was quickly swapped out for a defensive stance. “What is she intending…?”

Ryuji didn’t seem to realize the danger and raised his voice. “No more coins or playin’ games! We ain’t followin’ your damn rules!” Skull took large steps towards the shadow with a bravado that Akechi wanted to both commend and ridicule. The look on Sae’s face proved that shared the sentiment.

“Oh you will. There is no room for negotiation.” She purred. “You will know soon enough.” Sae’s form flickered and flashed. For the briefest moment, the Phantom Thieves caught sight of a grotesque shape—as if her cognitive form was glitching. “Now come at me!”

Joker signaled the containment team to scatter. If she was planning something now, it wouldn’t do to have everyone trapped. Ryuji, Morgana, Haru and Yusuke quickly leapt out of the pit and positioned themselves behind the pillars.

Akechi was about to reach a comforting hand over Makoto’s shoulder, but Joker, who had been silent this whole time, beat him to the punch. She looked to her leader with wide, unblinking eyes. If the mask wasn’t in the way he would have seen the stubborn tears collecting in the corners.

“We’ll save her,” he reassured her. Joker turned his gaze towards Akechi and nodded. _Together_ , came his silent agreement. Morgana drew his weapon as the other persona users followed suit. Sae clicked her tongue and wagged a teasing finger at them.

“Four against one?” she pouted and tipped her hat. “Why don’t we do this fair and square!” The giant screen behind her flashed with the words ‘BET HP’. Before anyone could question it, the roulette board surrounding them spun wildly. A white ball rolled furiously around the arena. Sae snickered at their baffled expressions. “Let us play a game of roulette. The stakes will be our lives.”

“We’ve had enough of these games!” Panther growled and cracked her whip impatiently on the ground.

“I thought petty thieves like yourselves would jump at the chance for a prize.” Sae shook her head in disappointment. “Of course, acts of violence are forbidden here. One must follow the rules.”

Everyone could hear Futaba’s annoyed huff in their earpieces. She had already taken shelter above them in her Persona. **[How many times do we have to say it until it gets past that thick hat of yours?]**

“That’s fine by me,” Sae shrugged. “Such troublesome people will just face the penalty.”

Just as Makoto was about to draw her gun, Joker held out a hand in front of her. He shook his head and kept his calculating eyes on the shadow before them. “Not yet. Let’s feel her out, first.”

“The leader of the Phantom Thieves is willing to try his luck?” Sae held her hand out in front of her. “Then let me explain. You will predict which pocket the ball will fall into. Choose where you will place your bet!”

“Our bet? What are we even betting?” Panther asked anxiously. She was on edge and constantly flit her gaze between Sae and Joker for reassurance.

“In the lower floors we had to bet coins. Considering how we just used them all on the scales, I don’t think we’ll be using those,” Akechi surmised and glanced at the giant screen behind the shadow. “I just hope my hunch is wrong.”

“You and me both,” Akira nodded grimly before aiming his attention back at his opponent. “Oracle, can you shift the odds in our favor?”

 **[I’m a hacker, not a miracle worker** ,] she quipped sharply. **[I’m willing to bet Inari’s last yen that she’s gonna cheat, but she’ll just brush us off if we complain. Play it safe for now.]**

 **[I’d rather you not bet my money,]** Yusuke’s voice retorted over the com. **[I’ve been saving for a new palette.]**

 **[For Christ’s sake, man. Buy some food!]** Ryuji replied.

“If we get out of this in one piece I’ll make you all dinner!” Joker huffed and quickly analyzed the movement of the spinning sphere. “Black. 13 to 24!”

The giant white ball began to slow down after making his bet. The persona users watched as it skipped across the board until finally it started to settle in the 13th black pocket. It seemed as though the ball was going to stop, however the pocket flashed brightly for a brief moment before the ball tilted into the red pocket beside it.

“Looks like luck isn’t on your side,” Sae waggled a finger. The floor beneath them flashed with the words ‘LOSER’. “Time for me to collect my prize.”

“What are you—”Akechi began but was shut down by a sudden bolt of pain in his chest. The edges of his vision darkened and he had to thrust his saber into the ground to hold steady. Beside him he noticed the others were in similar states. While the Phantom Thieves caught their breaths, it looked as if Sae was rejuvenated. Dark red energy pooled into her hand before being absorbed into her body. She licked her lips, as if savoring a five star meal.

Akira shook off the pain and tightened his grip on his dagger. His eyes darkened to a gunmetal grey before his mask disintegrated into blue flames. “Kushinada!”

A woman’s figure emerged from the flames. With the flick of her wrist, a rush of energy flowed into everyone. The pain from Sae’s earlier attack was reduced to a dull ache.

Ann pumped her fist and straightened up. “Alright! Time for a counter attack! Let’s go Carmen!” Her hair whipped behind her as she extended a hand towards her opponent. Carmen’s whip was engulfed in flames before it cracked against the floor. A pillar of fire erupted beneath Sae’s feet.

“You certainly don’t hold back,” Akechi noted with jovial amusement. The moment he spoke, he couldn’t suppress a sharp cough. Even though he was a safe distance away, the air seemed to scorch his throat with every breath.

“Tsk,” Sae clicked her tongue and narrowed her golden eyes at the thieves. “I thought I told you violence was prohibited here. If you want a fight that much,” She snapped her fingers. Globules of black slime oozed through the roulette pockets before they formed into large groups of shadows surrounding them. Joker could hear the faint cries of alarm from his companions on the outer perimeter of the pit. Doubtless they were given some sort of penalty as well. “Then it’s a fight you’ll get.”

Makoto shot a withering glare at her blonde companion, who laughed nervously behind Joker. He merely sighed and loaded a new mag into his handgun. “Oracle, give me some good news.”

** [Your favorite maid café is having a cosplay event this weekend.] **

“Don’t make me spoil _Mirage Saga_ for you!”

** [Too late. Your boyfriend beat you to the punch.] **

Joker’s jaw dropped as he turned to Crow, who was gaping like a fish beside him. It didn’t matter that Akechi’s mask covered most of his face. With or without it, his face was bright red and spread to the tips of his ears. “He’s not… We’re not…!”

“I can’t believe this…” Joker murmured quietly and grabbed him by the shoulders. Crow wanted to look away, but his intense gaze kept him in place. “You watch _Mirage Saga_!?”

“That’s not the point!!!”

“You two!” Makoto shouted and even took a moment to fire a bullet at the ground between them. The two froze and slowly turned to Queen in shocked obedience. “Lock it up!”

“Yes ma’am.” They spoke in perfect unison.

Akira quickly assessed the dire situation. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way. Panther and Queen will guard Oracle. Crow is with me.”

The detective and the thief locked eyes for a moment before coming to a silent agreement. Crow twirled his light saber expertly in his grip before moving back to back with Joker. “First to 20. Loser buys dinner?”

Akira laughed. “Sushi or no deal.”

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Joker was not invincible.

He may have countless personas at his disposal, but he wasn’t entirely fond of all of them, and the same extended to them. Kushinada was as powerful as she was spiteful. Norn was a mighty force of nature, but Joker used a lot more energy keeping that power in check—especially when both Ryuji and Morgana had an aversion to wind and electricity respectively. Alice was a frightening child; however she brought out a murderous glee that disturbed him once the deed was done.

But when all else failed and he had his back to a corner, Arsene has been and will always be his true partner.

“And what a corner I backed myself into,” he muttered darkly under his breath as Arsene obliterated a platoon of shadows with Maeigaon. “Morgana, status report?”

 **[Not looking good, Joker.]** The cat replied after a moment. The background was filled with the sounds of explosions and battle cries from his companions. **[What’s going on down there? Shadows suddenly swarmed us over here!]**

 **[Did you manage to figure out how she cheated?]** Haru asked breathlessly. **[If you catch her in the act, then maybe the Shadows will disappear!]**

“The glass!” Joker barked as he rolled away from another stray thunderbolt. “Shoot the glass in the pocket!”

“A little occupied right now!” Panther shouted as she flicked her whip out. The tip wrapped around a Shadow’s neck and promptly snapped it with a quick tug. Makoto also had her hands full dodging two shadows on her tail.

“Crow!” Joker called. Akechi, who just dispatched two Ganesha in a flash of light, turned towards his leader. His breath was haggard and the tip of his sword tiredly dragged on the floor. Akira couldn’t help but drink in his haggard appearance in mild amusement. It was a stark contrast to his perfectly kept appearance.

Then again, Akira wasn’t in any better condition. He was sure his ankle was sprained after landing on it wrong, and his coat was singed in multiple places. Despite the situation, he managed to send his prince a mischievous grin. “Think you can make the shot?”

Akechi wiped the sweat from his brow. “I can. But can you stay alive long enough to cover me?”

“Please, these guys can’t even touch me,” Akira winked, earning a flat glare in return. “You on the other hand…”

“Seriously? _Now_?” he groaned and thrust his blade through a green Moloch. “If you insist on being a hopeless romantic, I wish you would wait until we got home.”

“Ooh, not in front of the kids.”

 **[WILL YOU TWO STOP FLIRTING AND SHOOT SOMETHING!?]** Futaba shrieked impatiently after narrowly dodging a stray bolt of lightning.

“I’ll need a distraction.” Crow edged closer to Joker, who just dispatched another shadow with his gun.

“I can cover you for about five minutes,” Akira replied and managed a half-hearted smirk at the detective behind him. “Do I get a kiss for good luck?” Akechi rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. Joker shrugged and waved his mask away in a flash of fire. “Norn!”

A huge gale of wind surrounded them upon the Persona’s summon. The nearby shadows were pushed back by the force and were soon blinded by the blinding flash of lightning it called down. Akechi took this chance to leap out of the fray and hide behind a tall potted plant. From his vantage point he saw Joker stumble after Norn vanished. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and his chest heaved in battle-worn exhaustion.

A shadow crept up behind him, but before Crow dispatch it from afar Joker quickly spun and slashed its throat with his dagger. The onslaught of skirmishes may chip away his endurance, but the fire hadn’t left his eyes yet.

“You’re looking rather tired.” Sae cooed. “You can give up, you know. Aren’t you tired of fate dealing you a bad hand?”

Joker merely straightened up and rolled his shoulders as if it were any normal day at the gym. He hid his earlier fatigue with the cocky grin the thief was known for. “The only thing I can’t deal with here is you.”

Her lips screwed into an ugly sneer as she snapped her fingers. “Fine then! Time to place your bets!”

The giant screen behind Sae flashed brightly again. Unlike last time, the board read ‘BET SP’. After the waves of shadows, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle another loss. Joker fought the urge to glance in Crow’s general direction. “Let luck be a lady tonight,” he murmured quietly as he fought to concentrate on the spinning ball.

Crow took a deep breath and took aim. His hand was steady as he aimed down his sights at his target. He was glad that Futaba finished the coms on time. He wouldn’t have been able to hear the bet from there otherwise.

_“You know what to do.”_

Akechi’s muscles moved against his will. Whatever signals his brain was sending was quickly overridden by the voice that’s haunted him since childhood. Instead of the glass panel, the gun shifted towards Joker’s head. It would be perfect. The phantom thieves would fall the moment its leader went down. The shadows would make quick work of the others during the chaos. It was foolproof. All he needed to do was pull the trigger…

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

His finger twitched on the trigger from the sound, but the cool sting of a knife against his neck stopped any other movement. He lowered his gun just enough to appease his would-be-assassin, but his eyes remained trained on Joker.

“I thought the Phantom Thieves didn't kill.” He couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it all. “Okumura-san.”

Haru exhaled slowly. "That's right. We promised that we wouldn't kill anyone, regardless of what they've done," Her exhaustion was obvious, but she held her breath to sneak up on the detective. “But I'll gladly betray their trust if that's what I have to do to stop you. I won’t let you murder Akira-kun.”

“Well, that leaves us at an impasse.” He replied. “Because I’m trying to stop a Shadow from killing him first.”

"Why should I believe you?"

** [Red. 1 to 12 odd!] **

At the sound of Joker’s bet over the com, Akechi raised his pistol to take aim again. Haru proceeded to press the knife harder against his neck, just hard enough to nick the fragile skin. “If you so much as twitch I’ll stop you you before you can even pull the trigger.”

“If you want a heart-to-heart so badly I’ll gladly give it to you,” Akechi growled impatiently. He watched as the white ball began to slow down. He only had moments. “But if you don’t let me do this now he _will_ die. They all will.”

He didn’t have to turn around to see the look of conflicted anguish on her face. She had her father’s killer in her hands. He could be tricking her right now. And yet she reluctantly removed the knife, allowing Akechi the chance to realign his shot.

The cut on his neck stung, but he was never more grateful for the distraction. Her biting words helped drown out the static voices that nearly controlled him a moment ago. Just as the ball began to shift out of the red seven pocket, his gun fired. Glass exploded from the panel, shocking Sae most of all. The shadows in the roulette pit exploded, leaving only Sae and the Phantom Thieves. Akechi turned to Haru, who had her grenade launcher aimed at him. He arched an unimpressed brow at her and holstered his gun.

“At this distance you’ll blow yourself up, too.”

“I’ll take my chances,” she replied coolly and flicked the safety off. “If that’s what it takes to protect them.”

“There are better ways to do that than to become a martyr,” Akechi replied and turned his back on her to rejoin the fight. He paused for a few seconds to see if she would stop him. When he heard the faint click of her reengaged safety, he couldn’t help but half turn to extend a sad smile. “I’m sorry…” Before she could reply, he jumped back to rejoin the others in the pit. Haru slung her grenade launcher on her back and eyed the detective suspiciously.

“Akechi-kun,” Haru murmured. “Whose side are you on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *inserts subtle foreshadowing*
> 
> Okay now I'm sleeping. I have work in a few hours XD
> 
> A/N: Sorry if Haru at the end sounded a little OOC. I love her. I’d like to believe that beneath her dainty demeanor, she holds the greatest grudge against Akechi since the wound was so fresh. Not to mention how savage she gets on valentine’s day. 
> 
> Btw I've never really played roulette so I'm iffy on how to bet verbally (usually I just move my bet piece on the board or ask the dealer. So I guessed)


	4. White Lies

“ _Motherfu—!_ ”

“Language,” Akechi chided as he poked and prodded Akira’s injured ankle. The thief’s lips were curved downwards into a petulant frown, but nevertheless he bit back his words at the detective’s ministrations.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Akira drawled with a wince. “I’d say you’re enjoying my pain.”

The chestnut haired boy smiled serenely before replying, “What an interesting hypothesis. Please. Continue.” He punctuated each word with a firm touch, earning a pained grunt from the thief in return. After he was finished, Akechi’s hand gently settled on his ankle before casting Diarahan.

He wasn’t as good as Morgana when it came to healing, but he learned the basics over the years. _Had to_ would be a more accurate phrasing. A mental scape the Metaverse may be, he was still flesh and blood. Late night trips to the clinic and bribes could only go so far. So learn he did. The proof showed in the way his scars began to look less grizzly as he traversed the Metaverse alone.

Loki was born to make his opponents suffer as he had. To harm. Not to heal. He thought that was all he was ever capable of.

A warm glove pressed against his skin and gently nudged him out of his reverie. Akira’s brows were furrowed in concentration at the small cut on Akechi’s neck. Leviathan’s attacks were far too vicious to cause such a minor injury, and Akira knew the detective was anything but accident prone.

“I’m fine,” Akechi briskly answered his silent question and pulled the thief’s hands away from his neck. “You should be worrying more about yourself. You look horrible.”

Before the detective could let go of his hand, Akira quickly latched back on and squeezed for good measure. “That’s a mean thing to say to the guy buying you dinner.”

“I don’t do conveyor belt by the way.”

“Urgh, fine,” Akira rolled his eyes. “But your café better be worth all the fatty tuna I’m gonna have to buy.”

The others tended to their own duties. Yusuke and Ryuji were off to secure the Treasure while the girls were tending to their own wounds. Makoto was the only one who remained by Sae’s beaten Shadow.

“She’ll be fine,” Akira said. He rolled his ankle experimentally and nodded in approval. “You picked up healing fast.”

“You flatter me,” Akechi laughed. “I’m simply a quick study.”

Lies. Lies upon lies upon another mountain of lies. For the first time, the weight of his deceit came crashing down on him. It was only a matter of time before Oracle gave the signal. Only a matter of time before he was branded a traitor. Akechi remembered the promises they made in Leblanc and desperately wished to cling to him.

He wouldn’t dare hope that Akira forgive him, but he would dream nonetheless.

“The investigation should proceed smoothly now,” Akechi murmured quietly. “The suspicions against you will be lifted as well.”

“Somehow you don’t sound too happy about that,” Akira frowned. He shifted closer to the detective with worry etched onto his features. “What’s wrong?”

“Just pondering the irony of it all. A detective working and acting alongside the very thieves he vowed to capture.” Akechi chuckled. A bitter tang filled his mouth. “And here I am, helping them get away.”

Joker leveled him with a teasing smile. “I’d say you captured one at least.”

“You say that now…” the detective tore away from Akira’s weighted gaze. “But—“

“Enemy readings!” Futaba gasped. Holographic screens flitted in front of her as she scanned the data. Panic grabbed her as hoards of police filled her vision. “Where did they come from!?”

“For real!?” Ryuji stepped back. He nearly dropped Sae’s Treasure in shock. “The hell’s going on!?”

Joker and Akechi stood and took a look at the growing number of enemies they’d have to face. Considering the waves of Shadows that Sae threw at them, it would be suicide to try and barrel their way out of this one. They were too exhausted and low on supplies to even consider the idea.

“We defeated the Palace ruler and even stole the Treasure, yet the Shadows are still restless…” Morgana huffed in exasperation. “It doesn’t make any sense… What’s going on here?”

“There’s no use standing around here trying to figure it out,” Joker said before turning to Futaba. “Oracle, do we have an escape route?”

“Errr, yes and no…” she answered nervously as more and more data flooded her screens. “We might have a chance to slip through the back, but the main casino hall is already flooded with suits.”

“A team this large would be discovered immediately. We had best split up for our escape.” Makoto spoke grimly. “Although, we’ll need someone to act as a decoy… No, that’s too dangerous—”

“Go.”

It didn’t take a beat before Akira stepped up to the plate. The group shared a shocked gasp and fervent disapproval at their leader’s sacrifice. Makoto most of all. “You aren’t actually thinking of distracting them by yourself!?”

“I am and I will.”

“But…”

Ryuji sighed. He glanced down at the Treasure before tossing it over to Akira. “His mind’s made up, Queen. You know how stubborn he can be.” He lightly jabbed Akira in the shoulder and offered his friend a confident grin. “There’s no way the police can take down our leader. He’s too much of a smartass to die.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Akira laughed and bumped fists with their track star.

“Please don’t do anything reckless, okay?” Haru pleaded. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Ann nodded in agreement. “I’ll never forgive you if you don’t make it back alive.”

Yusuke shook his head. “As painful as this parting may be, we must leave now!”

“Agreed,” Akechi said. “We best be off now while the enemy is still unorganized.”

“Good. Keep your coms on just in case,” Joker ordered. The group nodded as they hurried off to the elevator. Akechi and Akira lagged behind a bit. Before he could catch up to the others, Crow tugged insistently at his sleeve.

Conflict and distress were written all over Akechi’s face. It took all of Akira’s willpower not to reach out to hug him. To do anything to wipe the unease off his features.

 _He’s been tense ever since we finished Leviathan off,_ Akira thought. He reached out and gently cupped Akechi’s cheek. The detective would have recoiled at the affectionate gesture by now. Akira had accepted that their strange relationship never left Leblanc, but the vulnerability on the detective’s face made him want for more.

 _Please._ He thought. _Let me believe._

Just as the thief was about to pull away, Akechi closed his eyes and instinctively nuzzled into his touch, relishing in the warmth that seeped through his red gloves.

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

Akechi scoffed but brought his hand over Akira’s and squeezed. “You better, or so help me I’ll drag you out myself.”

* * *

His heart pounded wildly in his chest, but he had no time to focus on the way his muscles trembled from the strain, nor did he have the leisure of replaying his parting with Crow.

Instead, Joker smiled roguishly at the crowd that gasped and jeered at him from down below. He scanned the horde of people, picking out the Shadows from the police, before leaping onto another swinging scaffold with graceful precision.

Man was never made to fly, but at that moment Joker felt like he could soar.

[We made it to the first checkpoint.] Morgana said. [Team two, what’s your status?]

[Right behind you,] Haru answered. [The staff passageways are clear on the second floor, but it’s only a matter of time before they secure it.]

“First floor off limits. Got it,” Akira grinned as he saw more guards attempting to cut off his exits. He managed to gain some purchase on a balcony, but Shadows beat him to the punch. He crouched low only to leap into the air and land gracefully on the Shadow’s shoulders. “Excuse me, but I’ll have to ask you to move aside.” Akira ripped the mask off its face with merciless glee.

“I have a very important date that I can’t afford to miss.”

* * *

“Whew! We made it!” Ann cheered as they snuck past the last police checkpoint. Weeks of scouting the outer perimeter of the Casino paid off. The city was more or less a perfect replica if you don’t account for the obnoxious casino, so it was easy to meet up at the nearby station.

“Now all we need is to guide Joker out,” Haru clapped giddily, but stopped the moment she noticed the grim expression that hung over Futaba.

“Something wrong?” Futaba asked over the com. “The exit should be up ahead.”

[…Through there?]

“Unless you have a persona that can turn you invisible, that’s your only way out of there,” Futaba grumbled. For a moment the group held their breaths as they heard shouting and gunshots over the com, however the sound of shattering glass and the appearance of Joker gracefully soaring through the air was almost comical, to say the least. Ryuji whistled while Yusuke couldn’t help but applaud their leader’s flawless performance.

“Hmph, what a showoff,” Futaba rolled her eyes but proceeded to pack her equipment away. She caught sight of a light in the distance and turned to it curiously. “What the…” Before she could examine it further, a hand shot out and muffled her surprised gasp. No one saw her disappear around the corner because of Joker’s over-the-top escape.

Ann sighed, but could help but cheer despite the heart attack their leader gave them. “You’re so reckless, you know that?”

[Of course I d—ngh!]

“Joker!?” Morgana cried in alarm. The other end of the com went loud with static.

“Wait…where’s Akechi?” Makoto spun around in search of their red masked companion; however neither he nor Oracle was anywhere to be seen. “Futaba?”

“Shit!” Ryuji cursed. “She was just here! Was he onto us after all!?”

“B-But that wouldn’t explain why Futaba-chan is missing, too!” Haru stammered. “Did he…?”

“I doubt it,” Yusuke cut off her doubts. “He has nothing to gain from capturing her as well. Makoto would have been better leverage to keep Sae-san in check.”

“So what do we do now?” Ann asked, regarding the group who shared the same discouraged expression as her. Morgana leapt up onto a trashcan.

“Change of plans. We’re going back to Leblanc.”

* * *

Sojiro’s grip on the steering wheel grew impossibly tighter with every harsh thump in the car. He wasn’t exactly particular about the state of his car but…

“Are you crazy!?” Futaba snapped as she kicked the back of passenger seat with her boots again and again. “Give a girl some warning before you grab her!”

Akechi cringed and fought the urge to rub his aching back from the repeated blows behind his seat. He pulled his phone out and checked the tracer he planted on the transport van. “We aren’t exactly given the luxury of time,” he retorted dryly. He glanced at Sojiro, who remained relatively silent throughout the whole drive. Upon his request a few days prior, the barista agreed to pick them up the moment they snuck out of the Metaverse. Their destination was just around the corner. “Sakura-san…”

“Not now,” he said gruffly.

“…I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. Trust must be earned, and I’ve done nothing of the sort.” Akechi answered. “I understand that clearly.”

“And that’s where we differ.” Sojiro said. “Let me explain… First: you're working with the police that have a target on that kid's back. Two: you managed to drag Futaba back into the danger I tried so damned hard to hide her from. Three: you're the lapdog of the most powerful politician in Japan. So no, I don't trust you. And after the stunt you were about to pull, it’ll be a long time before I do. _If_ I do." It didn't seem possible for Akechi to feel any smaller in the passenger seat. After a moment, Sojiro released a heavy sigh. "But for whatever reason, Akira trusts you. And so does Futaba.” Sojiro parked the car behind the station and unlocked the door. “So unless you want your next cup of coffee to taste like water, you better not disappoint them.”

Akechi blinked, unsure of how to respond. “I… I promise I won’t.”

“I’ll be supporting from here, but it’s up to you to do the rest.” Futaba sent Akechi a thumbs-up.

“Oh no you don’t,” Sojiro grumbled. “You’re supporting from Leblanc. And before you complain about time—”

“No, it’s fine.” Akechi finished. “I’d feel more at ease if she was out of harm’s way.”

Futaba grumbled and mumbled “useless detective” under her breath. Despite her petulant pout, she couldn’t hide the worry from her face. He hesitantly reached out and pat her head. “Akechi…?”

“Keep a seat warm for me at Leblanc?”

Futaba playfully swat his hand away. “Make Akira do it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the month delay! Had a lot on my plate (Like my sister's wedding to help plan, XD). I know it's shorter than expected considering the hiatus, but this one is more to set up the infamous "interrogation" scene. 
> 
> To be honest, I've been revisiting this part for a LONG time. Like..."while writing _Heat Haze Daze_ " long. I think the last time I've rewritten this much a section was back when I wrote God Eater fics on FF, haha. In the end, I decided to break it up into two parts since I couldn't get it to flow as well as I wanted it to. The next chapter should be up in another week-ish since it's mostly written for the most part.


	5. The Prisoner's Dilemma

_The Prisoner’s Dilemma:_

  1.   
_a. A paradox in decision analysis in which two individuals acting in their own self-interest pursue a course of action that does not result in the ideal outcome._  
  
_b. A situation in which two players each have two options whose outcome depends crucially on the simultaneous choice made by the other, often formulated in terms of two prisoners separately deciding whether to confess to a crime._



* * *

Akechi hated it when he was treated like a child.

Granted, he was still considered a minor by law but he’s had his fair share of life experience in his 17 years of life. The nightmares he faced at night wouldn’t ever let him forget. Still, insomnia was a small price to pay for the life he’s built for himself. A life full of fame and admiration.

Yes. Admiration. But never love.

Akechi waded through the mire of the human heart for two years as a hitman, all while wearing the mask of the perfect charismatic detective. It didn’t matter how dirty his hands got so long as he had somewhere to return to. He would sell his heart to the highest bidder if it meant he had a place to belong. He didn't think that someone would steal it first without so much as a ransom note.

It only felt right to steal it back.

[Hey, can you still read me? You should be reaching your destination shortly.]

“Affirmative,” he murmured quietly. No one suspected his presence at the station, but it wouldn't hurt to be careful. “Do you have a visual in the room?”

[Not yet, but I should get an audio feed in a few minutes. I’ve had an ASIC working on their server since yesterday, so I’ll own the cameras soon after.] Futaba whistled appreciatively. [This Kirijo tech you gave me is awesome...and bougie.]

"Focus..."

Akechi set his jaw as he took the elevator down to the lower levels of the station. He had the building’s specs memorized by now. These walls contained a bloody history for him, but he was never more grateful for the nightmares. They never let him forget a single detail.

He stopped just shy of the final corridor and took a steadying breath. He knew Shido posted a guard just outside the soundproof interrogation room. Easily expendable. The weight of the gun felt strangely heavy in its hidden holster. Akechi closed his eyes and tried to settle his racing heart. It had been years since he was this jittery before a job. He wasn't one to rush, but he just wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible. 

[The cameras are on a private system, so I have to override the security. Well, unless you want them to keep the recording of you.]

“This isn’t my first stakeout you know.” Akechi shot back as he pressed himself against the wall. “How is the audio feed looking?” Silence. “Oracle?”

[Oh god…]

Akechi’s chest tightened. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what was happening in that room. The detective hoped his voice sounded calmer than he felt. “I need to listen. Please.”

His earpiece filled with static before it cleared. As expected, the sound that greeted him was anything but pleasant. He could hear every bone-shattering blow and heart-rending groan with startling clarity. Akechi tasted the blood on his tongue before he realized he was biting down on his bottom lip.

 _Not yet,_ he reminded himself as he closed his eyes to focus. It made the experience all the more visceral, but more than his conscience was at stake here.

[Ready to talk?] a voice sneered. Akechi felt a growl rise in his throat. Whoever was interrogating Akira wasn’t even giving him the chance to breathe, let alone speak. [Or do you want another shot?]

Akechi vaguely heard Akira spit, and by the sound of the agent’s disgusted reaction it hit right on target. The thief was rewarded with another attack. Akechi heard sound of a metal chair clattering in the background.

“Oracle, work faster!”

[I’m working on it!] She choked out. [I don’t like this any more than you do!]

* * *

Dark corners and eerie silence used to irk him in the beginning of the year. Shadows could be patrolling just around the corner, and all he had was rubber knife and an airsoft gun to protect himself. Joker was more of a name than an alter ego back in April—a means to forget that he was just a 16 year old boy that only wanted to avoid expulsion and the police. That was only seven months ago. 

All things considered, he’d gladly take Dojima over this.

“Your friend sold you out, you know,” the agent drawled as he circled the area where Akira lay. “I bet you’re wondering who? The Okumura heiress? Or maybe the prosecutor’s sister? The MO matches, considering your taste for murder.”

 _Don’t say anything,_ Akira thought and tried to focus on anything else but the pain or his trembling legs. _Think of the plan. Think of the prison blueprints. Think of the two guards you could easily take out. You just have to hold out until Sae gets here._

“Clamming up? That’s fine. We have ways to make you sing,” the agent snickered. “Does the name Akechi Goro ring any bells?” Akira froze as he drew in a sharp gasp. He could have easily pinned it on his aching ribs, but nothing escaped the perceptive agent, whose lips twisted into a sinister grin. “Finally a reaction,” He hummed. “You got played, kid. Did you think you two were friends? Or… No. I can’t imagine that detective brat being sweet on his target! The boss will love this.”

“Shut the hell up,” Akira spat. His eyes glinted dangerously under the harsh light. The agent sneered and sent another kick flying into his stomach. This time Akira couldn’t stifle a pained rasp as bile threatened its way up his throat. His lungs desperately yearned for air, but every inhale brought forth a fit of burning coughs.

“Obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons… Manslaughter too, yeah?” The agent paused. “Hard to believe that some kid from the boonies was the one pulling the strings all this time. Bet you enjoyed it.”

A bodyguard in the room came over to unlock the handcuffs that kept his wrists behind his back. Before Akira could relieve the uncomfortable ache in his joints, the guard forced him to roll on his back and shoved a clipboard into his chest. Akira hissed. “What?”

“It’s your confession.”

Akira slapped the clipboard away. The agent stood with a sigh. “And here I thought we could put our differences behind us. I can’t exactly forge your signature. That would be illegal.” he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “But then again…”

Before he could react, the agent brought his heel down on his knee. Akira’s vision went blindingly white for a split second before the pain registered. A guttural scream clawed its way out of his throat. His fingers scrambled in vain to shove the weight off his knee. “You don’t need a leg to write your name. Want to try this again?”

The agent relieved him of the weight and offered the pen and clipboard one more time. Akira reluctantly accepted. His icy fingers struggled to hold the pen correctly. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the temperature of the room or the fact that his circulation had been cut off for so long from the handcuffs. Soon enough, his name was branded onto the paper in a messy scrawl.

“Good. Was that so hard?” the agent laughed. He gave the clipboard to a guard.

“You got what you wanted,” Akira spat. Despite the situation he was in, he couldn’t help but grin sardonically. “So what now? Make me disappear? More torture? Gotta say it got old a while ago.” The guards in the room looked at each other before coming to a silent agreement.

“You thought that was torture?” The agent cracked his neck before leveling Akira with a smirk of his own. “That was just the warm up. Now—“

“That's enough.”

* * *

This was it. This was how she was going to die.

Despite all her efforts to fortify her room with the best tech she could afford, she forgot to change her locks. No doubt Sojiro would give them the key after finding out what she pulled behind their backs. Despite the  ~~major~~  minor hiccup, her fingers didn’t stop their furious dance across her keyboard. Skittish as she may be, Futaba prepared herself for this the moment Akechi traced back her bug. It wouldn’t be long before—

“Futaba, what’s going on!?”

…Before they forced the door open.

The hacker cringed. Okay, maybe she didn’t account for how murderous Haru and Makoto would sound. Or look for that matter. She wanted nothing more than to disappear into her computer chair, but there was no escaping the piercing gaze of her teammates. Everyone else tailed behind Queen and Noir with mixed expressions of confusion and apprehension. 

“Look, I’d love to explain but I’m kinda in the middle of something,” Futaba squinted at the crawling red status bar at the corner of her screen. She knew glaring at it wouldn’t break the encryption work any faster, but for the sake of the nightmarish noises coming through her private com she begged the coding gods to be on her side. “That ‘something’ being Akira and a bcrypt algorithm that would make China blush!”

“And that’s why we’re here,” Haru cried. “We thought the plan involved Sae-san! Not Akechi-kun!”

“Hey, calm down!” Ryuji hurried between the girls protectively. “Yellin’ at her won’t give us any answers!”

Ann placed a comforting hand on the Okumura heiress’s shoulder. “I know you’re upset, but I know Futaba wouldn’t do all this without a good reason.”

“Ryuji and Ann are correct. Taking it out on Futaba isn’t the right course of action,” Yusuke concurred, albeit reluctantly. “Although I won’t deny that I feel rather vexed at this turn of events.”

"Boss filled us in for the most part," Makoto pinched the bridge of her nose in an effort to think rationally. "Considering the circumstances, I'm shocked he approved this plan. But...Futaba." The student council president knelt down next to the redhead, who could barely spare a moment to catch Makoto's hurt expression. "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you let us help you?"

“I...” she hesitated. Her hands froze over the keyboard. Now that she was close enough, Makoto could see how bloodshot and teary her eyes were.

Haru sucked in a slow breath. Her hands were tightened into fists, but Ann's comforting hold gradually drained her of all the tension in her body. The Okumura heiress also knelt down beside Futaba. "I'm sorry. I let my anger cloud my judgment and took it out on you."

"It's not like you're wrong," Futaba pulled her hands away from the keyboard to hug her knees to her chest. "All things considered, I should have stuck to the original plan. Akechi shouldn't be forgiven for what he's done. To you and to me."

"So then why?" Haru pleaded. "Why help him?"

"Because Akira thinks he can be saved." Futaba replied. Her eyes shone with a resolve that rivaled their leader's. "And I do, too."

"Saved?" Ann ventured uncertainly. "From what?"

“I promise I’ll explain later! Just—” Futaba paused to adjust her headset, as if straining to hear. “W-What? No! It’s not done yet! Don’t turn the com off—” Her screen filled with red warning boxes as she struggled to keep her server secure while breaking the encryption. “You. Are. An. Ass!”

* * *

No one heard the electronic lock click open, but no one missed the heavy metal door slam shut. Akechi casually strolled in. It was as if he was walking into Leblanc instead of an interrogation room.

“Detective Akechi,” the agent greeted gruffly. “We were about to finish up.”

“No need.” Akechi smiled serenely. He glanced at the security camera from the corner of his eye. “I can take care of it from here.”

The two bodyguards opened a path for the detective, who stopped just shy of Akira slumped against the wall. “It’s a shame Sae-san couldn’t make it. I can’t blame her though. I suppose she didn’t want to gamble her last job as a prosecutor like a loser in a casino. She wouldn’t see another day in court.”

Akira’s heart sank as the last vestiges of hope drained from his face. He swallowed thickly, feeling the room rock and lurch uncomfortably. His escape hinged on the prosecutor’s cooperation. They locked eyes. Akechi’s irises seemed to flash crimson under the light.

“Didn’t expect this, did you? For all your planning and attempts to change my heart, it still came to this…” Akechi stared down at the thief. “Any regrets?”

“A couple,” Akira would have laughed if his ribs allowed him. “Although I’d feel better if you just got it over with.”

Akechi loosened his tie and slowly unbuttoned his jacket. Akira’s eyes shifted to the black gun that was hidden underneath. “I apologize for the unsightly display you’re about to witness.”

The agent snickered. “I didn’t think the Detective Prince was the type to get his hands dirty. Not that I mind watching a show.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you, gentlemen.” Akechi replied cheerily and turned back to Akira, whose eyes widened in mute shock. The detective blocked his vision by gently draping his peacoat over his head. “Sorry. I’d rather you not watch this.”

“Akechi,” The agent warned. The others pulled their pistols out. The detective didn’t flinch, nor did he make any effort to draw his gun. “I think you’re making a grave mistake.”

“On the contrary, you’re the ones that made the mistake,” Akechi straightened up before glaring menacingly at the enemies before him. “It takes a lot to piss me off, and you've all made my shit list. I’m not sure if I should commend you on your bravery or your stupidity.”

“You son of a bitch!”

The detective broke out into a wicked grin.

“Come, Loki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think I was going to turn Akechi into a saint for the sake of a redemption fic? Think again... That arc has to be earned, pancake boy. 
> 
> Next chapter will take a little while so I hope you all stick around! It can only get darker from here, folks. I promise I'll heal the pain I inflicted on you guys with fluff soon.
> 
> P.S. If you are a programmer/hacker, please don't kill me for writing the wrong stuff. There's only so much I can research before I have the FBI coming for me because of my search history.


	6. Hitman

He could have torn the jacket off. He _should_ have taken it off. Broken and bruised as he was, he wasn’t an invalid.

But a familiar presence stunned Akira in place. His heart seized in his chest. A persona? It shouldn’t be possible to summon one in reality, but he would never mistake the azure flames that glowed behind the detective’s coat. Had he somehow pulled them all into the Metaverse?

“W-Wait! Stop!”

Akira’s blood ran cold. The guards that taunted and beat him black and blue sounded desperate, but Akechi merely responded with another onslaught of blows. The sparse metal furniture in the room screeched during the scuffle, and Akira could only hope he was tucked far enough into the corner to avoid the obvious beat down the detective was doling out.

Akira called Arsene from the recesses of his heart, but all it brought was a splitting headache that left spots in his vision. It was all he could do to stay upright and conscious, but the brief respite was making it difficult.

Lucky for him, the sounds echoing in the room would probably keep him awake for many nights to come.

Anguished screams filled the room. The sounds chilled Akira to his core. He wasn’t a pushover when it came to striking down his enemies in the Metaverse, but those were Shadows. Despite the ‘warm treatment’ they gave him, these guards were human.

“How far you’ve fallen, detective.” Akira recognized the voice of the agent. With a great deal of effort, he shrugged the coat off until it settled on his shoulders. Akechi was too preoccupied to notice.

“Sit.” Akechi’s voice was cold and even. It belied no hint that he was beating three grown men at same time just seconds ago. The other guards were slumped on opposite walls and groaning in pain. “I’m disappointed, Nishiki. I didn’t think you got your kicks from torture. Shido needs to keep a tighter leash on his favorite lapdog.”

“We both know who the real favorite is.” The agent spat. “I just never expected the Phantom Thieves would take you in. Your ledger is as red as mine.”

“Take me in…?” Akechi sounded genuinely surprised. He lowered his gun. “Do you think that’s why I’m here?”

“Isn’t it?” he countered. “Or did you really go soft for the criminal?”

Years of perfecting his mask didn’t prepare him for the accusation hanging in the air. Akechi’s plastic smile cracked at the edges. In its place was a bitter grimace. Akira shuddered. This man was practically asking for death, and Akechi looked all too willing to grant that wish.

“You won’t do it. Not while your precious leader is watching,” The agent sneered. Akechi turned to Akira, finally realizing that he removed the coat over his head. The detective’s eyes filled with fear.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Glee stretched across the agent's face. "He doesn't know how much blood sits at the bottom of the rabbit hole.”

 _Don’t do it_ , Akira paled but the words failed to escape him. His vision swam and darkened at the edges. The drugs coursing through his veins threatened to drag him under once more. _You’re better than this._

His silent plea went unanswered. Akira could see the wheels turning as the detective came to a chilling conclusion. Akechi turned back to the agent with a bored expression.

“You're right. The Phantoms don’t kill. They don’t spill blood for personal gain.” he drawled. “Doubtless, they’d let you walk out the door without so much as a scratch.” Akechi dug the mouth of the gun into his temple. “Unfortunately for you, I am not a Phantom Thief.”

Akira heard the ringing sound of a gunshot before everything went dark.

* * *

“H… Hey…! Wake up!”

Akira startled awake from the loud metal clang reverberating in his ears. His eyes searched around for Akechi but he was only surrounded by velvet walls and heavy chains. He exhaled slowly before rising from the bed. He never thought he would find his prison comforting, but he would gladly choose his Velvet Room wards over the ones in reality.

“Well done on making it this far, Inmate.” Caroline graced him a rare smile.

“Now that you have traversed your long, perilous recollection, you truly have entered the present…” Justine added. She looked down at her clipboard with a thoughtful expression.

“The effects of that drug are gonna wear off soon.” Caroline grimaced, as if the word tasted bitter on her tongue. “This is your golden opportunity. You must grasp the truth that will save you from the brink of ruin.”

“The truth?” From the corner of his eye he saw a blue butterfly flit across the room and into his cell. None of the residents of the room seemed to notice its presence.

“The evil influence who wishes you dead is fast approaching.”

“If you want to win this unreasonable game…”

“If you wish to take back your stolen future…”

“Recall the bonds you formed with your allies and grasp the truth that will save you from the brink of ruin!”

Igor sat up with a laugh. The sound stunned even the twin wardens under his charge. His everlasting grin stretched from ear to ear. “Indeed. Your ‘death’ was a necessity for your escape form certain doom, however it seems another has chosen to intervene. How curious…”

“Another? What do you mean…?”

“Would you like to know?” Igor cackled. His eyes twinkled with amusement, like a cat toying with its prey. Caroline and Justine exchanged anxious looks as Igor materialized a torn and bloodied tarot card in his hand. “Let us rouse the memories that you once chose to burn away.”

Akira staggered backwards and clutched his head in pain. Images flashed violently in his mind. The interrogation room. A ship… A gunshot… And—

_“Let’s make a deal… Ok? You won’t say no…will you?”_

“Master, stop!”

His vision turned blindingly white for a moment before easing him into exhausted bliss. Tears stained his cheeks, but he couldn’t recall the reason for them falling. Akira could barely register the fact he fell to his knees during his episode. Justine placed a comforting hand on his while Caroline aimed a threatening glare at Igor.

“What is the matter?” he asked pleasantly. “Do you oppose my method of rehabilitation, Caroline?”

“I…” She faltered. Caroline looked over her shoulder to look at Akira, who was still trying to catch his breath. She took a step back and bit her bottom lip in shame. “No. I… I apologize.”

The master of the Velvet Room hummed. “It appears my wardens have taken a liking to the prisoner.”

“No!” Caroline denied and slammed her baton into the bars. Akira shuddered. The sound pierced his ears and brought on a new fit of nausea that he tried desperately to keep down. Justine fought to maintain a neutral expression, but it was hard to ignore his pain in front of her. She reluctantly pulled her hand away from him and turned to face their master.

“The drugs are hindering his progress,” Justine forced herself to maintain a withering frown at their prisoner. “It would be pointless to continue as he is now.”

Igor stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Very well, then.” A familiar door bathed his cell in a comforting blue glow. Despite his cue to leave, Akira turned one last look at the Velvet Room residents. Igor’s bulging bloodshot eyes did nothing to hide the malicious glee within.

“We’ll continue your rehabilitation soon…”

* * *

"...Shirogane...datawipe..."

"...want that room clean...our deal."

The tail-end of a conversation floated in the air. As the sounds roused Akira from his slumber, he realized two things: an unwelcome ache in his entire body and movement. It took a minute to register the fact that he was lying across someone’s lap, and another minute to notice that he was in the backseat of a car. He groaned quietly. The passing lights kept him from properly opening his eyes.

“Goro…?” he croaked. His throat felt raw from his interrogation.  Akira couldn’t quite see properly through his fatigue and drug addled senses, but he would never mistake the lingering scent of coffee and gunpowder from the detective’s clothes. “What…happened?”

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” the driver mused. “All things considered, you're lucky you're not in the morgue.”

“Sae-san?” Akira attempted to sit up, but a gentle hand kept him steady. “B-But I thought—”

“Take it easy. You took quite the beating back there.” Akechi urged. Akira whined discontentedly. The detective chuckled and gently carded through his curls. “Not quite the rescue you expected, is it?”

The thief leaned into the touch. He didn’t want to revisit that particular memory any time soon. “Definitely didn’t expect to get drugged. And you called _me_ bad for giving Mona catnip.”

“If you still have a sense of humor after all that, then I guess I didn’t have to worry.” The detective said dryly. “In my defense, I wasn’t the one who drugged you.”

“That makes me feel so much better.”

“If you two are done catching up, you can start getting out now.” Sae huffed as she parked the car. “I have house call to make and a barista to calm down.”

Akira glanced out the window. Although the sky was dark there was no mistaking their surroundings: Yongen-jaya. With Sae gone his mind wandered back to the interrogation room. There was a thick haze in his mind—a cloud of dense fog blanketing a maze of his own creation. Was it the drugs? Or his own subconscious turning away from the truth?

He winced as he was gently eased out of the car. “Time to bring you in, thief.”

Akira closed his eyes and leaned more of his weight on the detective. Exhaustion was catching up and he was in no mood to play mind games. No state to demand answers. Not tonight.

“If I recall correctly, you broke me out, detective,” Akira countered playfully. Tiredly. They slowly made their way into the quiet sanctity of Leblanc.

“Hardly,” Akechi chuckled. “Between Sakura-san and Dr. Takemi, that attic is going to be your cell for the next couple weeks.”

“What else is new?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the bells toll...
> 
> R̢̛̞͚̯͔̗̿̀͑̏͝ͅĘ̡̢͕̝͔̝͛̑͑̓̕͞D̤̣͕̗̂̊̅̒̆͘͟͠͡E̡͖̜̳͓̪̤̞͋̅̎͂̓̈́͢͡ͅM͖̯͓̱̞̘̹̊͆̆̌̈̓̉̌̚͟͝ͅP̧͈̝̯͎̊͛̎̅̾͘T̩̞͖̖̊̉́̾̒̀̈̏͝ͅI̢̢̮̬̫͔̽̒͛̿͊͜͝ͅǪ͇̲̲̗̗̐̒̓̑͒̑͞N̵̛͙͈͈̣͉̝̫̒́̓̃̀̚͡͠͝ͅ Ḿ̛̤͎͙̞̙̠͔̓͛̄U͉̪̣͙͎͌̎͐̓̌̆̀̓̄S̖̜̳̠̻̆͛̈͊͋̚̕͞T̨̢̩̤̞̤̤̯̪̋̈̏̈́͑̇̓̚ B̸͙̘͙̖̬̪͛̽̓̆̇̋̚͞͞ͅÊ̸̢̡̠̹̭̣͐͗̃͗͊ E̜̬̮̭͙̼̅͑̔̍̕͞Ȁ̵̼̰͕͕̞͎̈́͆͐͘͢͟Ŗ͙̤̞͚̜̹̅̈́̍͗̕͟Ǹ̛̼̰͓̟̮̭̒̃̕̕͝Ę̗̼̻̣̹͑̓̌̕D̨̰̣̭̪͉̜̖̤͚́͒̿̿͑̚̚̕
> 
> Can you tell which part was my favorite to write?
> 
> Not as action packed as I wanted, but the game didn't give too much info on how the heck Sae got Akira out of there (I have an explanation for how Akechi did it but that's for a later chapter). Hopefully next chapter some questions will be answered.
> 
> Now excuse me. I have to finish a 7 page research paper, hahaha *dies*


	7. Rest For the Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mild anxiety attack in this chapter.

For all his plotting and planning, Akechi didn’t quite expect the look on Sakura Sojiro’s face. Disappointment? Sure. Distrust? Of course. But now?

He was _seething_.

The barista stood imposingly behind the counter while Sae sat on the stool across from him. Her lips curved at the sight of his obvious anger directed at the two teens standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“What did they do,” Sojiro’s voice was low and even as he drank in Akira’s injuries. His left eye was swollen and he had a nasty gash on his cheek. Despite leaning most of his weight on the detective, Akira still stood with a noticeable limp on his right leg. Akechi felt the thief tense up at the question, but he concealed his hesitation with a sarcastic hum.

“Oh you know. Police brutality, truth serum… Oh and I signed a fake confession,” Akira shrugged, although the movement elicited a pained grimace. “Full package deal, really.”

"Don't get cheeky." Sojiro huffed, but his anger was swallowed up by the worry knitted between his brows. 

“I apologize,” Sae lowered her head. “I can’t say the Phantom Thieves were justified, but no one deserves that kind of treatment. Much less a minor.”

Sojiro sighed heavily. “Just…Get the kid to bed. Bring him up and I’ll close up shop. Dr. Takemi should be here in a bit.” Sojiro pulled his coat on. “Keep an eye on things, Niijima.”

The prosecutor raised her mug in acknowledgement. When Sojiro slammed the door behind him, Sae offered the boys a somber assurance. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s been pacing the store ever since he dropped you off.”

“I half expected to be held at gunpoint.” Akechi admitted. He turned his attention back to Akira. Helping him up those narrow stairs would prove to be a challenge. “Think you can make it up the stairs?” Akira attempted to put more weight on his right leg only to hiss sharply. The detective shook his head before crouching down in front of him.

“Seriously?”

Akechi rolled his eyes. “Unless you want to crawl?” He paused for a moment. “Actually…that might be fun to watch.”

Akira grumbled quietly but eventually relented. Akechi adjusted his grip to hold Akira more securely on his back and quickly apologized when the movement caused the thief to grunt in discomfort. Sae watched in equal parts amusement and pity as the detective carried Akira up the stairs.

“Well aren’t you just prince charming.” Akira smiled against Akechi’s shoulder. “Come to sweep me off my feet?”

“I will drop you.” Akechi threatened dryly, but it held no venom. Rather, the exasperated fondness of it all made Akira sigh breathlessly. His eyes fluttered closed, if only to forget the events of tonight for a moment longer.

“Welcome to the team, Crow.”

“…I’ll still drop you.”

* * *

Sojiro was just about to bring the sign in when he heard the tell-tale click of heels on concrete. He took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and turning to the newcomer.

“I’d normally charge triple my rate for calling me in the middle of the night,” Tae adjusted the black doctor’s bag on her petite shoulder. “But I suppose I’ll make an exception for my guinea pig and settle for double.”

He grinned despite himself, causing a starburst of wrinkles to form in the corners of his eyes. Sojiro opened the door for her. “Put it on my tab.”

The doctor’s eyes lit up in cynical amusement. “Your tab is even longer than his, Boss. You sure?”

“Don’t tell the kid but…he reminds me of myself back when I still worked for the government.” He shrugged. After a moment of thought he allowed a shudder to run through him. “Not to mention his mother won’t let me hear the end of it if she catches wind of this.” Once the two were inside, Sae stood from the stool and greeted Tae with a short bow. “Nijima. This is Dr. Takemi Tae.”

“Ah, so you’re the prosecutor,” Tae looked her up and down before nodding in approval. “The kid keeps some odd company.”

“If only you knew,” Sojiro leaned back against the counter. His shoulders seemed to slump under the weight of stress and fatigue. “He’s upstairs.” Tae nodded curtly before slowly ascending the stairs. Each wooden creak sounded deafeningly loud in the quiet café.

The circumstances were odd enough, but Tae expected a call sooner or later. She wasn’t dumb. No high school student bought that many supplies to study for exams. No normal person bought that many painkillers and dressings unless they were doing something dangerous in their free time. Why did she continue helping that kid?

His eyes.

No matter how worn and weary he appeared every time he visited, a fierce determination swirled in his gaze. Honest. Straightforward. She once held a similar resolve to put all her energy towards helping someone else. Why did she stop?

No matter. She would make sure to aid Akira no matter the circumstance, medical license be damned. Besides, despite Akira’s regular supply runs, he never appeared injured.

She nearly dropped her bag at the sight of him battered and bruised in an attic.

The two boys turned to the final tell-tale creak of the top step. Akira offered her a sheepish grin as he sat on the edge of his bed. Akechi settled down beside him while holding a damp cloth to the cut on his cheek. The skin was already turning an angry hue.

“You stop visiting for a week,” she began dryly. “And then I get a call in the middle of the night for an emergency? You have some nerve.” Despite the accusation in her tone, Akira didn’t miss the worry in the doctor’s eyes. “The guys that did this better look worse.”

“They’re taken care of.” Akechi answered and left no room for further questions. Akira and Tae sent him a sideways glance before the doctor went to work. She pulled up a chair and took her penlight out.

“Do you feel any sharp pain or discomfort right now?”

“It hurts to breathe a little but nothing feels broken. Mostly…bruised.” He blinked groggily before shaking his head. His head throbbed. The dull drums that pounded in his ears were coming closer, and with it his vision began to tunnel. Tae frowned. She ordered him follow her finger as she waved it slowly from side to side. Akira did so dutifully, albeit slower than she deemed normal.

“It doesn’t look like you suffered heavy cranial trauma…” She hummed thoughtfully. “Boss told me you had a run-in with the police. What did they do?”

Akira inhaled sharply despite his protesting ribs. His vision distorted once more, but this time he felt his whole body lurch and shift along with it. Tae’s lips moved, but her voice sounded distant and muffled, like his head had been dunked under ice water. He felt a hard tile floor beneath him instead of his lumpy mattress. The warm café atmosphere melted and in its place he found himself at the mercy of the prison guards. Eyes wide. Throat closed. Muscles strained. Logically he knew that nothing held him now, but he could still feel the phantom bite of metal on his wrists and the bone chilling cold of the interrogation room. He could feel the sharp prick of a needle disappearing under his skin, compelling him to talk while dragging him into a drug-induced haze.

_Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. Don’t—_

His breath came in quick succession, each more painful than the last. Panic filled his chest to the brim, leaving him with nothing but the primal instinct of an injured animal.

The Metaverse.

He needed the Metaverse.

Nails scraped against his temples, desperately clawing for a mask that wasn’t there. His heart screamed. Beelzebub. Odin. Alice. Arsene. No one answered. He wanted nothing more than to don his phantom guise and become Joker. Swathed in black shadows and wolfish charm, he was catastrophe and ruin given human form.

“…ra. Akira!”

The thief blinked. Akechi’s urgency tore through his rising panic, but a firm squeeze of his hand grounded him back to Leblanc. “You’re safe. I promise it’s just us here.”

Akira closed his eyes briefly before taking a slow agonizing breath. His ears were still ringing from the sound of his pounding heart, but it wasn’t long before the drums softened to a dull throbbing. Tae silently thanked the detective before taking out some bandages and antibiotic ointment.

“Can I see your wrists?” She asked. Akira rolled up the cuff of his sleeve. The skin was red and raw from the tight handcuffs that confined him earlier. She narrowed her eyes in tempered anger. “I need you to touch each tip of your finger to your thumb.” Akira did as told. Tae was pleased to see that he hadn’t suffered any notable nerve damage. She went to work cleaning and wrapping the broken skin.

Akechi read the words on Akira’s lips and beat him to the punch. “Thank you, Dr. Takemi.”

“Don’t thank me until you get the bill.” She winked playfully at the boys, hoping to alleviate some of the tension in the room. Both of them replied with a weary chuckle. As much as she wanted answers, she would maintain patient confidentiality. She was a professional after all.

A professional. Not a fool.

“Normally I’d send you to a hospital for this kind of thing, but something tells me that’s not an option.” Both of them shook their heads. She turned to Akechi. “I need to run some blood work to find out what’s in his system, but…” she trailed off, obviously referring to his earlier panic attack.

“He’ll be fine. I’m aware of what exactly they gave him,” Akechi answered cryptically. “I’ll handle it.” He laced his voice with an edge of finality. Akira’s reassuring nod was the only reason she stepped down. She’s worked in the industry long enough to recognize the dying embers of regret in both of their faces. Tonight was not the time to stoke them. Tae sighed.

“Regardless if you can handle it or not, I’ll still need to run some tests eventually. I’ll check up on you tomorrow. For now I sentence you to bed rest.” She packed her things and pointed a severe look at Akira. “ _Full_ bed rest. If you so much as walk the cat, I’ll make sure you can’t leave this attic.”

“Roger that,” Akira croaked. His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. It wasn’t until then that he realized he hadn’t drunk anything since before entering Sae’s Palace. As if reading his mind, the doctor procured a bottle of water from her bag.

“Don’t drink too fast. I’m going to head back, but feel free to call me if anything else turns up.” Before she descended the stairs, she offered the boys a knowing smile. The fact that Akechi hadn’t released his hand didn’t escape her notice. “I’m sure your friend has you covered though.”

Akira reveled in the fierce blush that blossomed on Akechi’s cheeks. The detective attempted to slip his hand out of Akira’s, but the thief held fast.

“So,” he began. His voice, albeit dry and a bit hoarse, managed to take on its familiar teasing lilt. He took short sips of water. “’Akira,’ huh?”

“I liked you better in a drugged haze,” Akechi grumbled. He immediately regretted it when he felt Akira shudder. “Sorry…”

“S’fine,” the thief mumbled and closed his eyes to recollect himself. “Though, it feels like Piggytron sat on my head…” Upon seeing Akechi’s blank expression, Akira attempted to clarify. “Kaneshiro...huge piggy bank…” He winced. The memory made his head throb again.

“Annoying?” Akechi supplied. He nodded. The detective hummed, as if his description was sufficient.

 _Or he knows all about it_ , a darker part of Akira thought. _The traitor would know all about your targets._

He wouldn’t give his golden-eyed shadow the satisfaction of his doubt. Instead, he slid further onto his bed until his back rest against his window. Akechi remained seated at the edge of the mattress.

“So,” The thief hoped his casual tone didn’t betray his uncertainty. “How did you make three grown men scream uncle?”

Akechi snorted, not at all expecting the choice of phrasing. “That’s putting it lightly. Though in my defense, I don’t think they’d let us escape with a slap on the wrist.”

“…Loki.” The thief gauged Akechi’s reaction to the word. The chestnut haired teen didn’t so much as flutter an eyelid, but his perfectly plastic composure revealed just as much. “You called a persona, didn’t you?”

“I should have plugged your ears, too.” Akechi sighed. The sound was laced with a combination of humor and torment. “Yes. I would have had a much harder time otherwise.”

“But that would mean…”

“That we were in the Metaverse,” the detective finished, although he purposely left the other end of Akira’s question unanswered. He fished his phone out from his pocket. The Metaverse app glared at them from behind the screen. “I imagine you were too drugged to notice. It’s a good thing that Sae-san’s perception of court room didn’t extend to the station. Futaba did well to make the connection as well.” Akechi saw the question in Akira’s stormy gaze and cut him off. “I promised I’d explain everything, but I’d rather you actually remember after the fact. I’m not fond of repeating myself; especially with this particular subject.”

“I’m drugged and hungover, not forgetful.” Akira muttered darkly.

“And I’m more familiar with that drug than you are,” Akechi countered pointedly. “I know for a fact you’ll be stumbling over your facts for a few more hours. I imagine you won’t remember everything we discussed just now come morning.”

A hint of remorse weighed down on his eyelids, leaving his gaze downcast to his folded hands. It was a look Akira was intimately familiar with back when the detective frequented Leblanc until closing.

It wasn’t strange to see Akechi nurse upwards of three cups of coffee, sometimes four, surrounded by scrawls of messy notes and case files. Akira admitted that he admired that sort of relentless determination—that passion that drove Akechi to Ace Detective status.

Then there were nights he would just order a single cup and stare into its contents until the coffee turned cold from neglect. He wasn’t a detective then, much less his senior. If he had to describe it, Akechi looked like a lost child, waiting on the stool for something. Or someone.

He wore the same expression now. Once upon a time, Akira would have done anything to spark life back into those eyes. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Akira didn’t have to decide before the detective cleared his throat abruptly, as if realizing the error of his expression—a chink in the armor he tried so hard to maintain.

“You should sleep. You’ll feel a bit woozy for few more hours,” Akechi explained. “The period of effectiveness varies by individual and dosage, but it should definitely be out of your system come morning.”

The thief attempted a wry grin. “At least they didn’t harvest my organs. I’ll consider my first drugging session successful.”

Akechi scoffed incredulously. Only Akira would make a joke out of such a serious matter. On the other hand, the detective saw past his layer of crafty deflections and cynical humor. Saw the shaken resolve and trembling vulnerability that Akechi embraced long before becoming a detective. Facing that kind of negativity alone took a toll on him.

He wouldn’t let it twist Akira, too.

A touch of darkness washed over the detective’s face. It was rare that he didn’t have a quick response. After another second he shook his head and pointed a stern look in Akira’s direction. “Sleep. You’ll need your strength. I’m sure your friends will want to know their leader isn’t lying in the morgue.”

“You sure?” Akira’s brow quirked up. “I know for a fact I’m going to sleep like the dead. Not so sure on the waking up part.”

Akechi rolled his eyes, a mutter of ‘Drama Queen’ barely escaping under his breath. “You were given truth serum, not poison. If I really wanted you dead I wouldn’t have bothered making a deal with you in the first place.”

“Is that true?”

Akira’s question lacked the teasing quality that Akechi expected. The detective could only nod in response, uncertain what words would come out if he opened his mouth to speak. Even if he did reveal his cards, he wasn’t sure if the thief could handle the truth in his current state. Physical or mental. He had to leave now. Regroup. Damage control.

Akechi stood to leave, but a weak tug on his sleeve gave him pause. All pretense of courage and composure drained from his face. Akira stared up at him with an expression so vulnerable and uncertain that he dared not study further. “Was it you?”

_Are you the traitor?_

He could lie. Add another brick to the Tower of Babel. Another corridor in the maze of lies where only he held the map. Akechi was all too good at building walls to protect himself. But for once, it was time to protect someone else.

“Yes.”

Even if it meant hurting them to do it. 

Akira’s hand fell limply to the bed, as if the weight of Akechi’s confession made it plummet as Icarus did. He had flown with wings of hope and trust, deaf to his friend’s warnings.

Hubris would always be a thief’s greatest downfall.

He barely noticed the detective leaving to go downstairs. Exhaustion finally set in as he laid back on the bed. He swung an arm over his eyes and hoped whatever god or devil out there turned a deaf ear to the curses he sent them tonight.

* * *

The staircase wasn’t exceptionally long, but each step down felt heavier than the last. The detective’s legs felt like they were made of lead as he dragged himself down. Sae might have enjoyed seeing the Detective Prince like this once before. Now the victory felt hollow with the knowledge of what he had to lose. What little he would gain.

“Sae-san. Are they…?” Akechi trailed off. His voice trembled in a rare show of insecurity. Though curious at what transpired in the attic above, she took no pride in seeing how shaken it made the detective.

“Everything in that room is clean.” She answered. “Shirogane agreed to your terms. For now.”

He exhaled slowly at the news. It seemed to invigorate him slightly. His back straightened and he squared his shoulders, a poor imitation of the charismatic detective she used to work with.

“Good. I’ll get to work informing my superior that the job is finished,” Akechi adjusted his tie. A needless gesture, but it brought back a sense of familiarity he so desperately needed. “Keep an eye on the group and make sure Kurusu lays low. I’ll buy some time.” He chuckled. “Though I doubt he’ll sit still for long.”

Her brows furrowed as she fixed him with a stunned look. “You’re not going to tell him?”

The detective shut his eyes, certain that the prosecutor would see through his mask if he didn’t. He would need time to rebuild his carefully constructed façade. “He’ll find out eventually…”

“You always liked stirring up drama,” Sae shook her head exasperatedly. “He’s going to stop you when he finds out.” Akechi scoffed, but he couldn’t suppress the rebellious bubble of hope that threatened to destroy him and the few things he had left to protect.

“He can try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you'd like me to mark if a chapter has a panic attack or a similar trigger in the beginning. I'll also update tags as they occur.
> 
> Sorry this took a while, but I'm actually kind of pleased with how I wrote some of the parts. I did a bit more experimenting while writing this chapter, so I hope you liked it. 
> 
> I can't guarantee I'll have the next chapter up by Christmas but I'll try my best to have something for y'all when I can. Holidays working a restaurant suck.


	8. Boiling Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this is an extremely roughly edited chapter and no doubt there are errors. But since I've left you hanging for almost two months, here ya go XD
> 
> Update 2/5: I edited some parts because I realized I made a small plothole error. Just the small section with Sojiro. No biggie but it was bothering me

_November 21, 2016_

“Enter.”

Upon approaching Shido’s desk, Akechi’s gaze focused on the papers scattered on the surface. At the very top was Akira’s information. “That’s the death certificate of the principal offender, correct? Is there something wrong with it?”

“No. Nothing in particular.” Shido replied evenly. He paused. After a moment he leaned back in his chair. “You’ve outdone yourself, Akechi. Although I can’t say I appreciate you culling Nishiki. He had a good month or so of use left in him.”

Akechi crossed his arms and stared boredly at the many certificates and awards that lined Shido’s walls. “He was weak. I wouldn’t be surprised if the suspect planted doubt into his head. The leader of the Phantom Thieves had a way with words.”

Shido raised a brow. “I don’t suppose he’s swayed you?”

The detective felt his heart tug at the accusation. His cool mask would have held strong under normal circumstances, but the past couple days slowly but surely whittled away at his walls. Akechi tried to cover up his incriminating reaction with a laugh.

“Surely you jest,” he feigned offense. “He’s been nothing but a nuisance for months. To say I’m relieved he’s disposed of is an understatement.”

“And there’s no risk of the others parading through palaces?”

Akechi thought back to the Phantom Thieves. Thought back to how they flew past Sae’s palace. In the past, he always invaded a palace alone. Sneaking past shadows was child’s play when he didn’t have teammates slowing him down, nor did he have to concern himself with “changing hearts”. Of course, the alternative wasn’t something to be proud of.

One palace alone introduced him to a number of experiences. He learned that Ann and Haru always brought along snacks between Mementos runs. He learned that you could convince Yusuke to do anything if you promised to feed him. He learned that Makoto shared his interests in book genres. He learned that Futaba sometimes photographed Morgana in pet costumes. He learned that despite his tough exterior, Ryuji had a close relationship with his mother.

He’d never admit he felt jealous at that particular revelation.

Even if their camaraderie was fake, the rebellious bubble of happiness he felt was real. His hope was real.

His despair was real.

“They’re useless without him.” He finally responded. He buried his feelings once more and felt the edge of his smile crack with every asinine word that left his lips. “Now that they know not to cross us, it’s better to let them live the rest of their lives in fear.”

As if satisfied, Shido finally nodded before waving him away. “Good. Let them suffer for their insolence. Have you done any damage control yet? You’ve been rather quiet in regards to this operation for quite some time now. The spotlight is ripe for the taking and you’re not biting.”

“Calling myself a hero after the ‘suicide’ of my target?” Akechi raised a brow. “No, I’ll take a step back from the case. Perhaps do a piece on teen suicide? That should placate both their supporters and their antagonists.”

“I don’t care what you do so long as the remaining thieves stay out of my way. Their influence was an unexpected thorn in my side.” Shido growled. “I can’t afford to lose now when I’m so close.”

“And you won’t,” Akechi stressed. “So long as we have access to the Metaverse and its workings.”

“Isshiki Wakaba’s research was invaluable. It’s a shame we couldn’t see eye-to-eye.” Shido chuckled. “Who’d think that tampering with a person’s heart could trigger a psychotic lapse or mental shutdown?” Futaba’s crying face flickered in the back of Akechi’s mind. He balled his fists while fighting to maintain his pleasant smile.

“She wouldn’t have had to die if she just complied.” he replied. The admission brought upon a whole new level of self-loathing. No doubt Robin Hood was judging him harshly deep within his psyche.

“Any suspicions should be snubbed out. Even the smallest doubt must be severed at the root.” Shido narrowed his eyes at another sheet of paper on his desk. “After all, we had an active Public Prosecutor’s Office director on our side until recently. No matter. We’ll proceed as planned. Leave me.”

Akechi nodded. As far as his role was concerned, his job was complete. With a curt bow, he turned to leave the room.

“Actually, something is bothering me after all.”

Akechi turned just enough to see the politician frowning. His eyes caught the warm light in the room, casting them in a hauntingly familiar gold glow.

“Since our partnership two years ago, you haven’t made your motives clear. Power like yours doesn’t come without a price,” Shido folded his hands and leaned forward. “Don’t think your assistance and loyalty will go unrewarded. When I become prime minister, I’ll grant whatever wish you want.”

Akechi felt his hand tighten impossibly on the brass doorknob. He used his other hand to grip his wrist in an attempt to steady his tumultuous heart.

“Working towards furthering your cause has spread my name across the country, perhaps even the world.” He released the door and forced himself to grin smugly. “Not to mention I myself have reaped the rewards of the Metaverse. I cannot think of any greater reward than your continued support.”

Shido released an almost disappointed sigh. “I suppose with your age, you wouldn’t come up with debauched desires.”

“…I am thinking about the future though.”  

 _That’s right. Laugh while you can._ He thought grimly, feeling his heart splinter with each passing lie. _Keep up this mask just a little longer._ With everything he had to lose, it was all he could do to think of what little victories he could get. At that thought, Loki cackled and danced in the confines of his cage. 

 _Soon_ , Loki hissed into his ear. _Soon, it’s my turn to play._

Even if the detective stood alone at the end, he’d make sure he’d do it with Shido’s corpse at his feet.

Shido’s gaze never left Akechi’s back, even after the detective closed the door behind him. A moment passed before he dialed a number on his secure line.  

“Amamiya? I need you to look into something for me. Get me everything you can on Isshiki Wakaba’s brat. It’s high time we dealt with that loose end.”

* * *

Aside from weather related issues, Akechi never had a problem traveling to Yongen. It was quite the trip away from his apartment in Shinjuku, but LeBlanc’s quiet atmosphere was greatly appreciated. The fact that it was the base of the Phantom Thieves all along did little to dissuade him from coming.

Who would have thought a single text message would make him so reluctant to come now?

Akira: Come to LeBlanc. We need to talk.

Akechi sighed as he slowed his pace even more. He was already drained from his meeting with Shido yesterday. He doubted he could keep his composure if things went south today.

 _You’ve worked under the most relentless politician for two-years_ , Akechi tried to psyche himself up as he inevitably came across LeBlanc’s storefront. His hand settled on the brass handle. _You can handle this_.

With one deep breath he opened the door.

“You bastard!”

Not a minute passed since stepping into the familiar café before Akechi was suddenly grabbed and shoved up against the wall. The breath he sucked in earlier rushed out of him in a surprised wheeze. Behind him, the Sayuri shuddered and creaked.

Ryuji’s eyes smoldered with anger and contempt as he held the detective by the collar of his shirt. Akechi was tempted to add a broken arm to match his leg. Instead, he swallowed his pride and forced himself not to retaliate against the former track star.

The other Phantom Thieves stood to the side with a mixed bag of emotions across each of their faces. Anger. Disbelief. Worry. Confusion. Curiously enough, Akira was nowhere to be seen.

“Let him go, kid.” Sojiro’s voice cut through the tension. He, unlike the others, kept an even expression despite the sudden burst of violence in his shop. “We talked about this already.”

Ryuji’s grip tightened for a second before he reluctantly let go. Akechi didn’t even make a move to fix his ruffled appearance. He merely leaned further against the wall and closed his eyes. The Sayuri seemed to look down at him with an expression of soft pity. 

“You have some nerve coming back here,” Ryuji seethed as he took his place beside his friends.

“Let’s hear him out,” Yusuke offered, earning surprised looks across the room. The artist had been sitting in one of the booths alongside Futaba and Haru when Akechi made his entrance. His gaze was firm and cool, but Akechi could sense the layer of unease in his voice. “He wouldn’t have come back here if he didn’t have a good reason.”

Futaba grinned and nudged the artist’s shoulder. “Who’da thunk Inari would be the peacekeeper here?”

“Well, I’m glad someone did it.” Makoto chimed and stood from her spot on a stool. Despite her even tone her eyes flashed threateningly, as if daring the detective to make a move. “So? Why did you come back?”

Akechi bit back the urge to snap that _they_ were the ones that called him here and cleared his throat.

“You’ve all been listening to the bug that Futaba installed on my phone,” Akechi answered. He straightened up and leveled all of them with a questioning stare. “So you must know that I’ve been working for someone this entire time.”

“We don’t need whatever ‘advice’ you’re offering.” Haru spat. “Face it, Akechi-kun. You don’t have any more cards to play.”

“It's only a matter of time before we find out who you’re working for ourselves.” Makoto narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You wouldn’t roll over for just anyone. They’d have to be someone with great authority…great enough to order an assassination in a police station, and influential enough to get away with it.”

“Shido Masayoshi.”

Akechi’s eyes, as well as everyone else’s, snapped up to the stairs. Akira finally made himself present. He still walked with a slight limp, but he looked much better compared to the last time Akechi saw him—fresh from interrogation. Morgana padded faithfully behind him.

“That’s the name of your boss, isn’t it?” Akira continued, though his eyes held no hint of question or doubt. The raven haired boy casually walked behind the counter to stand beside Sojiro, but it was obvious that he was tense—a thread ready to snap at the slightest threat against him or his team.

Inwardly, the detective cursed. In his anger at the guards, he forgot that he let the name slip.

Sojiro visibly stiffened at the mention. This didn't escape Akira's notice, and the young thief turned to face his guardian. Anger simmered beneath his accusatory glare. "You knew, didn't you?"

The older man sighed and scratched he back of his head awkwardly. After a moment he nodded resolutely. "I might not have had proof, but I had a feeling Shido was involved in all this ever since Wakaba's missing research started showing up again. And if he’s really the mastermind behind these mental shut downs, then this won’t be a normal job for you kids.”

“I came here to warn you.” Akechi finally replied. “Stay out of this. You’re safe so long as the public thinks that you’re dead. The same goes for all of you.” He regarded the room with a sweep of his arm. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me…but at least believe this. You’ll all be killed if you continue.”

“Dangrous or not, we need to change his heart before the elections.” Ann began but Akechi faced her with such an intense glare that sent shivers down her spine.

“He’s _my_ prey. I didn’t come this far just for him to have a change of heart. It’s too good for him.” Akeshi’s gaze turned icy and dangerous. “Let me remind you that I saved your leader and kept you all out of suspected custody on a whim.”

“That’s bullshit!” Ryuji shouted. “Don’t you start sounding like some kind of hero when you’re not. _You’re_ the one that got him caught in the first place!”

“In order to get the police off your trail, you insufferable idiots!” Akechi shot back angrily.

“Your empty threats won’t work on us,” Makoto repeated heatedly and slammed her hands intimidatingly on the counter. “We have the momentum and we’re doing this job with or without you.”

“And if you really want to help us like you say, you won’t rat us out.” Ann countered. Akechi growled under his breath. It was a risky gamble, but his silence was as much an answer as any. Finally, he slouched against the wall and bowed his head.

“Please,” he pleaded. Akechi forsook every ounce of decorum in hopes he would get his message across. His voice was ragged, almost desperate. “You have no idea what he could do to you. To your friends. Your _families_.” He shot Ryuji a particularly hard glare, to which the blonde reluctantly tore his gaze away from. “Don’t involve yourself further with this case.”

Yusuke furrowed his brows. For a moment, it looked as if he wanted to say something to his fellow thieves, but he shook the thought from his mind. “Shido is dangerous regardless if we continue or not. And if the news is accurate, it’s likely that he’s going to win the election if we don’t do something about this.”

“I’ll handle it.” Akechi said. His lips finally curved into a wry grin. “I know his palace better than he does. It’ll be faster if I deal with it myself.”

Futaba shifted uncomfortably in the booth. “By deal with it, you mean…?” Akechi didn’t answer.

Sojiro rubbed the back of his neck and released a tired sigh. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s stop for today. I have to restock anyway and I’m sure not going to leave you all here unattended.”

Akira nodded and regarded his team. “Let’s reconvene tomorrow after school. Get some rest everyone.”

* * *

“Still here?”

Akira shoved his hands in his pockets and addressed the detective that continued to stand against the wall even after the others left LeBlanc. Akechi bit his bottom lip. He struggled with how to break the silence.

“Why did you contact me?” he finally spoke. “If you could remember who the mastermind was, then you don’t need me here. Hell, you could have continued in his palace with me none the wiser.” Akira stayed silent. “Did you want me to look like a fool in front of your teammates? Was that it?” Akechi clenched his fists tightly and pushed off the wall to step towards the thief. Only the counter separated them now.

“’Why?’” Akira repeated. “I should be the one asking why you decided to save me in the first place?” He laughed before tacking on a cynical quip. “Did you have a ‘change of heart’? Or did you finally grow a conscience?”

“What is your problem!?” Akechi snapped. His hands slammed down on the counter. Akira's eyes were wide in momentary shock before narrowing into slits.

“You threw me in jail, endangered my team and murdered three people in one day,” he answered dryly. “You tell me, detective.”

The accusation went to a carnal part of him and all thought of good intentions went out the window. “You know damn well I had no choice—”

“There’s always a choice!” Akira cut him off. Fury burned in his gaze, making it seem as though he was one step away from summoning a persona, Metaverse be damned. “And you chose to lie and manipulate us to help _him_.”

Akechi fought to swallow the truth that threatened to escape him. He retreated back quietly. “I thought you trusted me.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Akira turned around and leaned over the sink. Akechi couldn’t even see his expression in the nearby mirror due to the dark fringe that covered his eyes.

“I did.”

And with those two words, Akechi walked out of LeBlanc. For once, Loki fell silent to the breaking of his heart.

* * *

 _I should have expected as much_ , Akechi thought bitterly. His throat constricted, and he fought hard against the sharp sting in his blurring eyes. Akechi furiously wiped his sleeve across his face.

Just as he turned to leave he caught the curious gaze of the Phantom Thief’s hacker, who was sitting against the storefront. Futaba stood with a stretch of her legs and offered him a mock salute. Morgana popped his head out from a rucksack she had strapped on her back and nodded a greeting.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

“Can I help you…?”

“Yeah, actually.” Her grin widened and she whipped her phone out. An address and a string of information flashed across the screen. “Escort mission: Start!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY NOT SORRY
> 
> Hey everyone! I know I left you all for almost two months now, but better late than never, right? Buckle your seatbelts kids. It's gonna be an angsty ride from here on out until Akira and Akechi kiss and make up ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Have I managed to capture Akechi's internal struggle? I think not.
> 
> Anyway, it's official guys. I finally got into publishing (although it's textbooks instead of trade publishing like I wanted). I got three months of a "probationary" period before they decide to keep me on,so fingers crossed I stay on long enough to eventually get into trade XD
> 
> Next chapter will focus on an unlikely pair, as you can tell.


	9. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Shout-out to Ask-Akeshu on tumblr for this glorious [fanart](https://ask-akeshu.tumblr.com/post/170962906108/some-self-indulgence-for-myself-xd-fanart-for).
> 
> I haven't been this proud of a chapter in forever, holy shit.
> 
> Also, special shout out to everyone that comments on my chapters. Your messages really brighten my day and I often revisit them when I'm stuck on a part. Your continued support is greatly appreciated and I love you all. Stay thirsty, folks.

“You want me to do what?” Akechi stared skeptically at the chipper hacker who was furiously digging through her closet.

“You’re taking me to Akihabara!” she answered simply. She nodded appraisingly at a bright red hoodie before tossing it in his general direction. A matching black hat joined it. “Put these on! We can’t have you walking around like that.”

He crossed his arms, affronted and feeling exposed without his coat and tie. It was bad enough that he forgot his gloves at home. “Like what?”

Futaba rolled her eyes. “Just put it on, pretty boy. I’ll be right back.” Akechi studied the clothes he handed as she closed the door behind her. The hoodie was soft and warm with shining gold stars on the front. It was hard not to think of the black and white t-shirt he borrowed from Akira so long ago. He reluctantly shrugged his coat and tie off to slip the admittedly comfortable sweater on. He then tucked his hair into the hat and pulled the hood over his head.

“Are you decent?” he heard the hacker snicker behind the door.

“I look ridiculous.”

“About time,” she teased and opened the door to appraise his disguise. Her grin turned catty and she snapped her fingers. “Perfect. Now let’s go before the sale is over!”

Too tired to protest at this point , Akechi just sighed and let her lead the way.

* * *

 Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t fond of crowded spaces.

He enjoyed attention, but more often than not his forays into the city left him exhausted after countless impromptu interviews and selfies with his ‘adoring fans’. It hadn’t quite occurred to him to go out in a disguise, but then again didn’t exactly own casual clothes like the ones he was currently borrowing.

Speaking of which, he had to ask her why she had them in her closet in the first place.

Akihabara didn’t hold a candle to the masses at Shibuya crossing, but it was still crowded enough to make him uncomfortable. It wasn’t so bad as to call it agoraphobia, but enough for him to prefer quiet cafes and deserted shopping districts.

But as much as he dreaded the trip, he couldn’t help but think about the last time he actually went shopping. He’d often glance at the window displays on the way home, but most of his trips were to replenish his daily necessities.

Futaba chattered on about mundane topics: video games, comics, and new parts for her computer. Morgana would occasionally pop his head out of her bag to make a joke or complain, but he stayed dutifully quiet for the most part. Akechi drowned her out at first, but she took it in stride. Before long she had him chatting just as animatedly about Phoenix Ranger Featherman R.

“C’mon, You’d totally be Feather Swan!”

The corners of his lips quirked upwards. “You don’t think I’d be Falcon?”

“The villain? Vain, much?” Futaba teased. “You might as well change your codename to Prince.”

“I’ve grown rather fond of ‘Crow’. And besides...I’m not really fond of being called Prince, despite what the Metaverse suggests.” Akechi clicked his tongue distastefully. “Feather Falcon is black so it fits, doesn’t it?”

“I bet you just don’t want to be a swan.” Morgana peeked out of Futaba’s bag. Akechi aimed a pointed glare at the cat, who simply retreated back into the rucksack with a snicker.

Futaba picked up a black Featherman phone charm and held it up next to him to compare. “Mmmm, I don’t see it. Too…” she scrunched her face in thought. “Twinky.”

“Oh thanks.” he grumbled dryly, but he couldn’t quite contain the smug curve of his lips, nor the amused chuckle at her antics. If only she knew how wrong she was about that.

Futaba replaced the black charm for a blue one. “Feather Swan is the smart one in the group! Y’know, like the tactician.”

“That sounds more like Queen, don’t you think?”

“Eh, if anything she’d be Falcon.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Apparently she made Kaneshiro wet himself when she summoned her persona for the first time.”  
  
Akechi couldn’t help but laugh at the image of the student council president standing up against one of Shibuya‘s notorious drug lords. Makoto may have grown up in a sheltered home, but she was far from dainty; especially since she was raised by Sae.

The hacker continued to regale him with stories of before he joined: like how Haru went by the name Beauty Thief and how Futaba’s palace came straight out of a western Indiana Jones movie. Akechi noted just how fitting it was for her and received a playful punch in return.

“Don’t talk to me about fitting when you’re the one with the lightsaber.” Futaba rolled her eyes. “You might even be a bigger dork than Akira.”

“I highly doubt that.” he huffed. Despite the light mood, he couldn’t help but feel a nagging discomfort. Why invite him over Akira? Or any of the other thieves? Was she up to something?

Akechi folded his arms impatiently as they took a break at the food court. He hadn’t noticed how long they walked around Akihabara until they sat down with her bags of merchandise in tow. “This has been an interesting trip, but I don’t see why you brought me with you in the first place when you have nothing to gain out of it. Not to mention the other thieves don’t exactly welcome my company.”

Futaba’s jaw dropped as she sat gaping like a fish for a few seconds. “Do you need a reason to hang out?”

“I—wait, what?” the detective sputtered. “Hang…out?”

“Well duh. Why else would I ask you to come with?” she waggled her brows playfully. “For a detective, you’re awfully dense!”

Akechi pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. “You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation…” He pushed down the rebellious flutter in his stomach from her kind words and traded it for the sting of harsh reality. “You do know you’re putting yourself at risk by associating with me. Why are you so intent on keeping me around?”

She fell silent for a moment and pulled her legs up onto the metal chair to hug them to her chest. “You know…navigating has its perks.” Akechi raised a brow, but her serious gaze kept him quiet. “I might not be strong, but I notice things. Traps, treasure chests, enemies, weaknesses, the whole shebang…” she trailed off and met his gaze with a sheepish grin. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice?”

His shoulders stiffened and he strained to keep his voice light and even. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Aside from Akira, there are two others that you cover the most in the Metaverse,” she raised two fingers. “Me and Haru.” Akechi tore his eyes away from her, not quite affirming or denying her claim. Futaba plucked at the cuff of her coat sleeve before asking quietly, “You didn’t want to kill them, did you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I still did it,” he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the girl whose life he ruined. How many sleepless nights did he cause? How many nightmares?

Akechi kept his gaze on his lap. He didn’t know which would be worse to see: resentment or forgiveness.

His nails carved angry red crescents into his arm in hopes that the sting would make the regret all the less noticeable. It didn’t. “I don’t want your pity, nor do I deserve your kindness.”

“Yeah? Well tough luck. You don’t get to decide how we feel.” She replied. “Akechi. I can’t speak for Haru, but...” He looked up at her, guarded and uncertain. “I forgave you already. So stop thinking you don’t deserve it.”

He dug even deeper into his skin, dragging red lines down the length of his forearm.

“Even if I did, the other thieves don’t want anything to do with me now.” He hated the way his voice trembled ever so slightly, but he made no effort to hide it from the hacker. She of all people deserved to see him like this, weak and vulnerable and ever so hopeful. “He doesn’t…”

“Akira does.” Her cheeks puffed up after she heard his disbelieving snort. “He does!”

“Why would he?” Akechi asked. “He was right. I put everyone in danger. He’d have to be insane to still trust me after all that.”

“Oh please. Akira is the definition of insane,” Futaba scoffed. She started counting off her fingers. “Breaking and entering private property, pays for a maid service, kidnapped the Okumura heiress… Oh, and he jumped out of a two-story building, in case you forgot. You thought he was sane this whole time?”

“…He pays for a maid?”

“Not important.” She quipped and crossed her arms. “The point is I know Akira. And yeah, he’s hurt by all this. Really, _really_ hurt.” Akechi shrunk even further into his seat.

_Of course_ , he thought wryly. _There’s no way…_

“But he wants to believe in you.” Futaba insisted. Akechi held his breath. The hacker clasped her hands together and hugged them to her chest. “Give him time. He’s just as confused as you are.”

Akechi swallowed thickly. He took a moment to study her, to break down every tick and tell in her voice and body language. She chewed her bottom lip in apprehension, but her eyes shone with unwavering determination. How very like her. Just like...

“I…” he cleared his throat and stood. “I’m going to get drinks.”

Futaba’s earlier worry crumbled, and in its place she sputtered out a laugh. She playfully shooed him away with her soda order. It was a shameful escape, but he was never known for holding his ground. He preferred to avoid his problems rather than confront them. A few carefully placed words and walls got him this far. Why change tradition?

_“Are you afraid of this?”_

He cursed. His finger stumbled on the number pad and fed him a can of coffee instead of the oolong tea he wanted for himself. Akechi grabbed his drink and proceeded to order Futaba’s, this time paying closer attention to the buttons.

Bonds made his job all the more difficult. It was easier to detach himself if they hated him. Easier to wipe his hands clean of this once his final task was finished.

Easier. But no less painful.

“Hey! HEY!”

Akechi felt something small leap at his back. Morgana frantically scrambled up his shoulders and dug his claws into his hoodie. Before the detective could pry him off, the cat began shouting furiously in his ear. “Futaba! She’s—“

He didn’t let the cat finish his sentence before he bounded back. The cans of coffee and soda clattered to the floor with a loud pop, each spilling and sputtering helplessly on the pavement. From afar he saw three suited individuals approaching the hacker. Terror froze her in place, and he knew he had only seconds to react.

Still, he froze. If he went to aid her, those men would surely recognize him, disguise or not. Years of self preservation urged him to leave. Getting caught now would jeopardize everything. But if he didn’t help her… He didn’t want to think about it. Akechi frantically shifted his gaze around for anything to help him and locked on to a nearby fire alarm.

Akechi ignored the stabbing pain of the glass panel shattering beneath his fist. Akihabara immediately went into a panic as the fire alarm blared throughout the food court. He wouldn’t waste this. With the guards momentarily distracted by the panic, Akechi grabbed Futaba and ran.

“A-Akechi!” She gasped. Her voice trembled and he felt her vice grip around his hand.

He didn’t respond. All he thought about was getting her to safety. He had to get her as far away from Shido’s reach as possible.

“They’re not following us!” She insisted breathlessly. Akechi slowed his pace. He hadn’t noticed how far he dragged her, and guiltily noted how haggard she was from running. Morgana pressed himself comfortingly against her leg before jumping back up to her shoulders. Futaba scratched behind his ears in thanks.

“I’m sorry…” Akechi murmured softly.

Futaba was about to make a joke, but stopped when she saw how deep his apology ran. She kicked some gravel beneath her boot and grumbled darkly.

“We left the merch.”

Akechi stiffened up, but it wasn’t long before a chuckle escaped him. A chuckle turned into a snort, and a snort into laughter.

_She’s impossible_ , he thought endearingly. Akechi raised a hand, his uninjured one, to lightly ruffle the top of her head. With the adrenaline wearing off, the soreness in his hand returned but it was muted at best. He hid his grimace with a well-practiced smile. “We’ll come back. My treat.”

Futaba beamed hopefully before playfully swatting his hand away. “It’s a promise!”

The detective smiled back a little, though it was tinged with sadness. “Come on. I’ll take you back.” Akechi paused a moment and realized with a shiver that Akira was going to kill him when he found out what happened.

Or worse. Sojiro.

* * *

“Akira! I’m home!”

Akechi winced. He only wanted to drop her off and leave, but her grip was surprisingly strong. Sure enough, the detective heard the floorboards creak up above. Futaba’s grin stretched wide as she leveled him with a knowing wink.

“I hate you.” He hissed and finally wrenched his arm free. She stumbled, and it was then that he realized that she was still shaking from their earlier ordeal. Unfortunately he reacted a few seconds late, because Akira’s unruly mop of black hair came into view. The thief yawned and raised his arms in a stretch.

“Futabaaaa…” he whined. “Come on, you know I hardly slept--”

Akira froze and Akechi held his breath. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours, but the thief looked vastly different from the last time he stepped into Leblanc. His disheveled head of hair wasn’t enough to mask the dark bags under his eyes. Without the other thieves around, he simply looked exhausted.

Despite this, he straightened his shoulders and approached them expectantly. “Explain.”

Futaba laughed nervously and fiddled with her thumbs. “Well, I might have dragged Akechi with me to Akihabara…?”

“And?” Akira’s eyes shifted to Akechi’s bruised knuckles and Futaba’s trembling knees. The detective hurriedly hid his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, but the damage was done. Akechi cursed. Now he really regretted leaving his gloves at home. Akira’s eyes narrowed into angry slits and Futaba hurriedly stepped between them.

“Akira, j-just let me explain--”

“Futaba,” Akira cut her off sharply. She squeaked and lowered her head. After a second he sighed and gently pat her head. “I’m not mad… Just worried.”

“It’s not his fault.” Futaba puffed her cheeks. Despite her strong front, she couldn’t stop the angry tears from forming in the corners of her eyes. “It’s not.”

Akechi cleared his throat and slowly backed away. “I’ll...take my leave.”

“No.”

Akechi raised a brow. Who was he to throw orders around? What right did he have? Akechi was about to raise these questions, but the undeniable threat in Akira’s gunmetal gaze made him pause.

“Wait upstairs.” Akira’s tone was even and left no room for argument. “I’ll be right back.”

Grudgingly, Akechi stayed put. Futaba offered the detective an apologetic salute before being escorted home.

“What a mess I’ve got myself into.” Akechi sighed. This was the last thing he needed added to his plate. He tugged off the bright red hoodie and folded it on the counter, reminding himself to return it to Futaba later.

Akechi shrugged off the mild disappointment at the thought and climbed up the stairs. Once he reached the top, his breath hitched at the sight. Akira’s room was a mess. His shelves were in disarray and his desk was a clutter of broken lockpicks and scattered books, like they were thrown across the room. It looked as if a tornado tore through his belongings.

“What happened…?”

He picked up a fractured CD off the floor. The cracked reflection stared back wide-eyed and concerned. This display was violently intensional. At least that’s what his intuition told him. But intuition and logic didn’t always go hand in hand, and this was the last thing he expected out of the cool-headed thief.

The memory of Akira’s panic attack came to mind. He knew the leader of the Phantom Thieves wasn’t invincible. He’s seen him stumbling in exhaustion after a particularly rough Mementos run. He’s seen him stress over the best equipment for his teammates. But this…this was a full on tantrum.

No use questioning it now, he mused. He was sure he’d get an earful once the thief came back. How exciting.

Luckily, the couch was spared from the disaster zone and he sat down with a tired flop. Akechi’s brows furrowed at the restless state of Akira’s bed.

_“C’mon, you know I hardly slept—“_

Akechi closed his eyes and sighed. It wasn’t like he was doing any better in the sleep department lately.

In fact, he hadn’t realized he drifted until a gentle shake roused him from sleep. A rich, sweet smell permeated his nose, and his eyes slowly fluttered open. Akira stood in front of him holding two mugs of hot chocolate.

“I figured caffeine was the last thing you needed right now.” Akira offered him a tiny smile. An olive branch. Akechi took one mug while the thief nursed the other. They shared an uncomfortable silence. Akira paced the floor a bit before taking a seat by his desk. He almost looked grateful that Akechi wasn’t asking about the mess.

He looked better. Still worn and weary, but a sort of newfound calm washed over him now. Akechi didn’t know what happened while he brought Futaba, but it had to be good, right? The detective shifted in his seat and downed his drink before setting it down beside him.  
  
“Thanks.” Akira finally mumbled. Akechi blinked in surprise as he watched him awkwardly rub the back of his neck. “Futaba told me what happened today.”

The panic and guilt, still fresh in Akechi’s mind, made him shake his head with renewed vigor. “I was careless. I shouldn’t have accompanied her.”

“Well, she dragged you out there so we’ll just call it even.” Akira leaned back, eyes sparkling with a semblance of mischief. “Although I never expected you to trigger the fire alarm. Against the law, isn’t it?”

“You’re lecturing me about the law?” Akechi raised a brow at his jab, but tentatively played along. “That’s rich. I’ll be out of a job if you keep that up.”

“We can’t have that now, can we?” Akira hummed. There was a challenge in his tone that stirred something hot and familiar in Akechi. “Do I need to arrest you, detective?”

“I don’t know. Can you, thief?”

A beat, and finally laughter. The darkness and doubt that washed over Akira’s expression was gone, and in its place was boyish delight. Akechi missed this. He missed the stolen moments in Leblanc. Missed the playful banter and warmth that Akira freely gave. That Akechi craved.

“You know,” Akira began. His voice went quiet, and while a smile still graced his lips, it no longer reached his eyes. “I was ready to let you go if you betrayed us.”

Akechi nodded numbly. Akira laughed again. This time the sound was hoarse and frayed at the edges. The thief buried his face in his hands as his shoulders shook. “They told me to, you know. Hell, we’ve known something was up for months. And you know what? I didn’t care. I hoped—I _prayed_ against all logic that we were wrong.” Akira raised his head once more and met Akechi’s gaze with hardened disappointment. “I guess we weren’t.”

“Well,” Akechi’s throat tightened. “I guess we both didn’t get what we wanted.”

“What do you know about what I want?” Akira snapped. He stood up and strode towards Akechi, who instinctively retreated back into the couch. “What does _anyone_ know about what I want!?”

His eyes blazed with silver fire. It is not Akira, but Joker staring down at him with a mask of rage and ruin. Akechi felt his fingers twitch to his side, as if preparing to draw his gun or saber to stave off a being that crushed shadows with a wave of his hand and stole hearts with the other.

Loki thrashed and jeered within him, begging to be released and thirsting for the blood of the one that spurned his master. To hell with giving Akira time.

Instead, Akechi cast his mask aside and stood as himself: a manifestation of disaster and desperation all rolled into a mess of a boy.

“How would we know if you won’t tell us!?” Akechi shot back. Determination sharpened his words and cut deep into Joker’s pride. “Would you rather I let them kill you? Or maybe you wanted me to shoot you in the head instead?”

“God damn it, Goro!” Akira was shouting now. “Murder isn’t the only option!”

“Are you still prattling on about choice? Fine.” Akechi growled and straightened to full height to meet Akira head on. “I chose to save you. I chose to come back. And yes, I chose to betray you.” He grabbed a fistful of Akira’s shirt and forced him backwards until the back of his knees ghosted the edge of the bed. “And I’d do it all again if it meant keeping you alive. I didn’t risk everything just to have you die on me now, you attic trash!”

Akira tried to shove him off but the detective held fast. “And you expect me to feel happy about that!?”

“Of course not!” Akechi answered exasperatedly and only released him to throw his hands up in the air. The words left Akira stunned. “But I’d rather you despise me than the alternative!”

Akira sucked in a sharp breath. It was the last confession he expected out of the detective. But quick as a bullet, he recollected himself. He was the leader of the Phantom Thieves—a blessing as much as it was a curse. The title gave him friendships to last a lifetime. Unforgettable adventures. But love?

It was a treasure he dared not steal for himself.

“That’s just pure selfishness!”

“If I’m so selfish, then what does that make you? Are you so impossibly selfless to throw your desires away? Is Joker truly above all that? Are _you_?” Akechi spat venomously. Akira’s eyes flashed dangerously, but there was no stopping the detective now that he’s come this far. “You have no right to lecture me about this when you’re the one throwing your heart to the wolves and complaining that you got nothing in return.” Akechi paused to digest the words that left him before coming to a resounding conclusion. “You’re right. I don’t know what you want. But I bet you don’t know either.”

“Of course I do!”

“Then what?” Akechi asked. “What do you want!?”

Akira growled deep and low in his throat before surging forward to capture Akechi’s lips with his own. His hand buried itself Akechi’s chestnut hair to tug him closer. Akira greedily swallowed the detective’s startled gasp, taking the opportunity to swipe at his bottom lip with his tongue. Akechi shivered and brought his hands up between them to push him away, but Akira gripped one of his wrists tightly to hold him in place.

He whimpered, but only because the overload of sensations was short-circuiting his brain. It wasn’t long before Akechi kissed back just as fiercely. His lips slanted to meet Akira’s, and the thief groaned in a mix of surprise and pleasure.

Akechi could use every novel cliche, from electrifying to searing to _hungry_ and it still wouldn’t scratch the surface of this moment. This kiss was less a show of romance and more a mark of dominance. The dense, smouldering heat between them made him dizzy, but no less eager. Akira pulled away. Akechi drank in the thief’s ragged breath and the painful grip on his wrist. Akira’s eyes gleamed silver in the dim light, and he is completely and utterly undone.

“Akira…” Akechi began, but the thief dipped down once more to plant searing kisses along his jawline down to his neck.

The sensation of teeth lightly scraping against his sensitive skin made his breath hitch. The sound urged Akira on, because one hand slipped down to pop the first few buttons of the detective’s shirt to reveal more skin to claim. Akechi could feel the rough calluses of his fingers all too well and craned his head to allow for more access.

And then, a needle of doubt. Akira muttered a faint curse under his breath and left one final kiss along the junction where the detective’s neck met his shoulder before pressing his forehead against Akechi’s.

“Did that...answer your question?” Akira asked, chest heaving, brows furrowed, and eyes burning in the dim attic light. His breaths brushed against Akechi’s lips, which still tingled from their kiss.

“Y-Yes…I suppose…” he replied softly. Akira’s thumb traced a path along the detective’s jawline. The detective’s dazed expression drew a fond chuckle out of Akira.

“Well,” Akira cleared his throat. His expression was almost bashful. “That happened.”

Akechi rolled his eyes. “You’re so romantic. I’m going to swoon.”

“After that performance?” The thief smirked and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I can do better than that.”

The detective felt his cheeks flush against his will. “I-You—“ He shoved Akira hard. The thief fell back onto the bed with a breathless laugh and gestured for the detective to join him. Akechi crossed his arms suspiciously. “Moving a little quickly, aren’t we?” Akira’s jaw dropped to correct himself until he noticed the sly glint in his eyes.

“Just get over here, asshole.” Akira tugged his sleeve. Akechi allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed. Both boys leaned back against the window side by side, not quite touching. Not yet.

It’s quiet now. The silence was searching—gleaning for an answer in between the space that has changed between them.

Their problems weren’t solved. Not by a long shot. A kiss couldn’t erase the red on Akechi’s ledger, nor could it change the fact that Akira would be risking more than just his heart if they continued on this path. But...

Akechi felt the tips of Akira’s fingers brush over his, and he turned so quickly that his neck protested the movement. Akira was looking up at the ceiling, forcing himself to look casual, but the uncertainty coating his fingertips was all too apparent.

This was dangerous. Not only did this throw a wrench in all of Akechi's carefully placed plans, he couldn’t find the strength to care.

"'Forbid us something, and that thing we desire', huh?" he recited, recalling the words Akira said on that lazy Sunday when things were so much simpler. The detective smiled despite himself and shifted his hand to entwine their fingers together. Akira relaxed under his touch. The Phantom Thieves could wait. Shido could wait. All of Japan could wait.

For now, this moment was theirs alone.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAS THE SLOW BURN WORTH IT!? WAS IT!?!?!?
> 
> AGAIN, LOOK AT THIS ADORABLE [FANART](https://ask-akeshu.tumblr.com/post/170962906108/some-self-indulgence-for-myself-xd-fanart-for)! BASK IN ITS GLORY!


	10. Den of Thieves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a month late and this isn’t my strongest chapter. Honestly I think it’s kinda weak, BUT it’ll start rolling in the next few chapters! Bear with me please... Shido’s Palace is so damn hard to set up in the Canon divergence I have in mind but it’ll be worth it I swear

_November 23, 2016_

Tokyo was stirring. A coagulation of hushed whispers and furious forum threads washed over the city. Under different circumstances, Akechi would have laughed at the wild theories surrounding Akira’s supposed suicide. But considering how close his death actually came to fruition, the very thought only made him nauseous.

Attending school was even worse. The gossip mongers thrived in cramped hallways, passing notes and whispers like prison contrabands. Teachers tried to hush their whispers, but it was obvious that they were doing the same in the sanctity of their offices. He wished he could avoid school all together, but the Ace Detective still had a reputation to uphold no matter how empty the title seemed to get by the day.

“Your school sure is fancy.”

Akechi kicked back in his seat from the sudden voice below. His chair shrieked against the floor and heads quickly swiveled at the sharp sound, annoyance and confusion on their faces. His heart hammered in his chest and he forced a charming smile to placate his disarmed classmates. Once cleared, he peered down at his desk to find a shining set of sapphires.

“Morgana?”

“Yeah?”

Akechi glared at the cat that was pleasantly curled up in his desk. His carefully organized system was haphazardly shoved to one side to accommodate the tight fit, but Morgana didn’t look guilty in the slightest. His bright blue eyes stared up at him through the shadows of his desk.

“Before you start sending death threats to Akira, it was my idea.” Morgana said.

Akechi didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t have the energy to argue. The teacher just walked in, ready to begin a long-winded lecture on a subject Akechi studied ages ago. He reached inside his desk to grab a notebook, taking great pains to avoid scratching the cat with the spiral binding.

“So,” Akechi began quietly now that the teacher’s droning voice distracted the rest of the class. “ _Why_ are you in my desk?”

Morgana didn’t miss a beat. “Akira was driving me crazy.”

“Attic fever?” Akechi chuckled. “I can only imagine…” but for a moment he recalled the state of disarray of his room. The shattered CDs, scattered textbooks and torn papers. “Is he okay?”

“He’s...better,” Morgana hesitated. “He hasn’t had a fit since then, but he wakes up in the middle of the night sometimes. Whatever happened in Sae’s palace really shook him.”

“I see.” Akechi frowned. “Morgana.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re here because of what happened in Akihabara, aren’t you.” The cat fell silent. The detective stared out the window, watching the clouds pass over the sun. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know.” He had a faraway look in his eyes, resigned and tired, oh so tired. “I’m used to taking care of myself.”

“Then it’s time you got used to something else.”

Akechi’s jaw slacked in mute shock. Morgana blinked slowly, and he suddenly looked ancient—holding wisdom beyond that of anything humanly possible.

Akechi stiffened in his seat, not quite expecting the response. After a moment, he smiled and scratched Morgana under the chin. “Thank you.”

Morgana closed his eyes and curled up into a smaller ball. “Anyway, I’m sticking around for a bit. Your desk is way roomier than Akira’s.”

“If you get fur on my things I’m shaving you.”

* * *

 

Morgana was a good desk tenant. He stayed quiet for the most part, only speaking when the background noise was loud enough to distract from the quiet meows from his desk. There was only one close call from a classmate that was fiercely allergic to felines (much to Morgana’s denial).

But his report on Akira made him restless. His leg bounced impatiently as he urged the clock to go faster. He toyed with the idea of feigning a case to leave early, but a vibration from his phone banished the thought.

_[1 New Text Message From Kurusu Akira]_

Akira: being dead lost its charm a while ago. Are you free later?

Akechi chuckled quietly, already imagining how the thief must look: halfway hanging off the edge of his bed with the light of his old TV dim from overuse. The detective was hardly surprised that the thief got bored so soon. After all, there were only so many things Akira could do from LeBlanc, and he wasn't the type to waste away on the computer all day.

Akechi: I know what you're thinking. No.  
Akira: but I’m booooooored  
Akechi: NO.  
Akira: I’m too young to die from boredom  
Akechi: And you’d rather die in Mementos?  
Akira: ...yes?  
Akechi: You’re impossible.  
Akira: Sooooo?  
Akechi: Don’t make me block your number.  
Akira: I’ll just get Futaba to hack your phone again  
Akechi: Don’t.You.Dare.

_[1 New Text Message From Sakura Futaba]_

Futaba: IM IN  
Akechi: So help me god. I will spoil every plot twist of all the shows you know and love...  
Futaba: do yr worst closet nerd!  
Futaba: I am beyond this mortal plane  
Futaba: nothing is worse than shinons death!  
Akechi: Nana is the killer.  
Futaba: FUCK

* * *

 

Being dead sucked. Or more accurately, being fake dead sucked. Akira paced his room like a caged lion separated from its pride. He loved his days off more than anyone, but he was bound to LeBlanc for the time being, lest risk being caught and…

He couldn’t finish the thought.

Akira spent a good while fixing his room. He managed to reorganize his shelves and taped up a few posters he tore. His CDs couldn’t be saved, but he had the music files on his phone anyway (although he’d never be able to get a signed copy of Risette’s 3rd album ever again). He had half a mind to help Sojiro downstairs, but he was quickly chased out just in case someone recognized him. Thus, the thief was kept in the protective custody of his attic. His empty, boring attic.

It took a great deal of effort to stop texting his friends throughout the school day out of sheer boredom. Ryuji and Ann had a fairly long chain going before Makoto caught wind and shut it down. Phantom Thieves or not, exams were still around the corner and Ryuji needed all the concentration he could muster.

Akechi humored him for a few hours, and even sent him a few pictures of Morgana hiding in his desk. The cat’s eyes were closed in bliss in more than one photo where Akechi could be seen petting him.

 _Traitor_ , Akira thought enviously, knowing full well just how good Akechi’s head scratching could feel. Alas, even Akechi couldn’t keep the banter up under the scrutiny of his private school. Once 3:00pm rolled around, Akira wasted no time dialing his number. The phone rang exactly twice before the call connected.

“Someone's clingy."

“You're the one cheating on me with Morgana, honey." Akira smiled. "Petting rights are mine and mine alone." His grin stretched even wider when he heard the detectives irritated huff.

“Speaking of Morgana, you owe me a new bag. Mine smells like a cat now.” Akechi grumbled. Akira heard Morgana’s faint protest in the background. Suddenly Akechi’s voice turned playful. “Should a dead man be making calls?”

“I come with a message beyond the grave…” Akira played along, lowering his voice and letting it rumble dramatically in his throat.

“Cute.”

Akechi sounded less than impressed, but he couldn’t quite stifle his laughter. Akira wanted to record the sound for posterity. Unfortunately, business had to come first. “I really did have something to talk about though. Can you come over today? Everyone will be there.”

“I feel like I get attacked in some way whenever I come to LeBlanc.”

“Just to talk,” Akira promised. “Unless you want to get ‘attacked’ by me?”

“I’d rather not; especially if your friends will be there.” Akechi said, wisely choosing not to bring up the fact that Futaba probably knew more than she let on. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I need to pick something up from my apartment before dropping by. I’ve been meaning to give it back for a while now anyway.”

Akira tried to think back on anything he lent out but came up empty. “Give what back?”

“You’ll see.”

* * *

 

“Order in the court!” Futaba hit the table with her makeshift gavel (a muddler she stole from Sojiro). “We are a peaceful people! We use our mouths, not our fists! I’m looking at you, Skull!”

“Hey!”

Akechi released a heavy sigh. “As amusing as this all is, I don’t think we’re given the luxury of time.”  
  
Haru gently chewed on her bottom lip. Eventually, she came to a quiet decision and looked up at the detective. “You’ve been inside Shido’s palace before, correct?” She didn’t need the air of a question. They all knew the answer.

“No use beating around the bush at this point.” He shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Yes. I’d say I’m more familiar with it than I’d like to admit.”

“Well that saves us a whole lot of trouble!” Morgana jumped into Akechi’s lap. His blue eyes closed in bliss when the detective automatically began scratching behind his ear.

Unlike the others, who shared relieved grins across the room, Makoto narrowed her eyes at him. “That is, _if_ he gives us the keywords.”

“Before you all get dramatic again,” Akechi cut off the inevitable argument he saw brewing. “I didn’t exactly come back to here just to dangle the words like a carrot...although that would have been amusing.”

“Good. We’re tired of that bull.” Ryuji huffed.

“Speaking of which…” Akechi pulled a manila envelope from his briefcase and slid it across the counter. Akira raised a brow but spilled its contents out, revealing their incriminating photos he used as blackmail. Akechi gathered the stack and pulled a cheap lighter out of his pocket before setting the edges on fire. Before long, the floor was sprinkled with ash and dying embers. “I’ve already deleted the copies on my computer. Futaba can sweep my files if you don’t believe me.”

“What's your game, Akechi-kun?” Haru asked, not quite hostile or pleasant. He fiddled with the knot of his tie for a moment. It was as if loosening the noose around his neck would make the words come easier.

“No more games. No more tricks. I came back with an honest offer, though I can’t exactly force you all to believe me.” He replied, tone light and sheepish.

“Okay,” Ryuji leaned forward on his stool. “Shoot.”

“I’ll give you the key words to enter Shido’s Palace,” Akechi said. “But I’m coming with you and I decide how to deal with him.” The thieves exchanged a seconds-worth of discussion through a shared glance. Akechi steadied himself, jaw tense and ready to fight every objection they dared to formulate. The Phantom Thieves turned back to the detective with a resolute nod. He blinked. “I… I didn’t expect you to agree so quickly...or at all, for that matter.”

“It’s not like we hate you.” Ann admitted. “If anything, it’ll be a lot easier if you’re working _with_ us than against us.”

“I agree.” Yusuke hummed thoughtfully. “Is this what it feels like to have an ‘inside-man’ on the job?”

“Congratulations, pretty boy.” Futaba snickered. “You’ve given Inari enlightenment.”

The detective released a lengthy breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Akira, who busied himself making a new batch of curry for the group, hummed a playful tune to himself. Akechi could practically feel the shit-eating grin stretch wide across his lips.

“I’ll admit, we had our reservations…” Makoto frowned. Unlike Ann and Futaba, a shroud of suspicion still hung over her head. After a moment, she shook her head. “But after giving it a long time to think about it while we worked together, we realized you’re not too different from us.”

Futaba snorted. “Pfft, just admit you got jealous that your big Sis trusted him more than you.”

“I-Wha-N-No!” the almighty student council president sputtered. Her cheeks flushed an unimaginable shade of red to match the crimson in her eyes. Akechi couldn’t help the smug grin from curling at the edges of his lips. He looked every bit like a cat with cream.

“Nijima-san, I never knew…”

Oh, if looks could kill...

Ryuji and Haru were quiet, both studying the detective with unreadable expressions. Akechi expected this...at least until the track star suddenly walked up to him and slung an arm across his shoulders. Akechi grunted in alarm and braced himself to be shoved against the wall again. Instead, Ryuji playfully ruffled Akechi’s hair, earning a sharp protest in response.

“You’re so stiff. Loosen up, will ya?” Ryuji chuckled, although the detective didn’t miss the rough apology in his eyes. He turned to the other thieves with a cheeky grin. “Is the curry done yet? I’m starving!”

“I feel like I adopted eight kids since coming to Tokyo.” Akira grumbled, but still proceeded to put the finishing touches in the pot. “If you want to eat so badly, you better set the table, young man!”

“Yes, _Mom_ …” Ryuji rolled his eyes.

Futaba hummed loudly whilst stroking her chin.

“Eight? I thought it was seven…” she pondered aloud. Akechi eyed her warily, and when she met his gaze he saw the glittering mischief he always saw in Akira. “Since you just snagged a wife—“

“Okay how about those keywords!?” Akira cut her off. The detective half expected him to play along with the redheads antics, but he definitely didn’t mind the faint flush on Akira’s cheeks. As an afterthought, Akechi’s brows furrowed at Futaba and he hissed quietly.

“Who are you calling a wife?”

“I wonder…”

Akechi rolled his eyes. If anyone was the wife between them, it had to be Akira.

“I…” Haru started. Akechi glanced back at her, who managed a strained smile. The wound was still fresh, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t heal. “I don’t know if I can honestly say I forgive you yet...but I can sympathize.” The Okumura heiress extended her hand to him. “Truce?”

“Truce.” Akechi took her hand, marveling at the strength in her almost painful grip. He chuckled nervously at her overly innocent smile.

“Well! Now that we have that drama out of the way…” Akira clapped his hands and pointed to the pot. “Eat up, kids! Today we celebrate.”

Akechi raised a brow. “We’re not going…?”

Akira waggled his brows. “Not yet. I know we need to take care of Shido ASAP, but since we don’t have keywords to hunt for I figured today we’d meet-and-greet our newest member.”

“But...we already know each other?”

Ann winked whilst flashing a winning smile. “True, but this time you’re an official Phantom Thief!”

Akechi stiffened. Though the statement held no ill intentions, he felt his heart clench. His palms felt unimaginably sweaty, and he wondered if they could see all the red that stained them. “I...I hardly fit the bill.”

“Fine. You’re a Phantom in training,” Futaba’s cheeks puffed, as if daring him to argue. He backed off. “Thought so. Now c’mon! You get the most uncomfortable seat in the house!” She tugged him off the isolated bar stool and ushered him into the booth next to her.

Akechi clutched at the space where his heart thrummed against his chest. Uncomfortable. Fluttering. Painful. Warm. It was unlike the satisfaction that filled him after drinking Sojiro’s coffee. It was unlike the calm that washed over him in his rare moments of peace with Akira.

 _Home_.

It had been years since he lived in a house full of laughter and smiles. Years since he felt any rush of affection—honest affection from anyone. And yet here he was, surrounded by friends arguing over who made the best coffee, or who was the best driver in Mementos. Despite everything he’s done, they were still willing to extend their hands, reservations be damned.

A plate of curry appeared in front of him, paired with a steaming cup of coffee. The detective flushed upon seeing Akira’s smug all-knowing grin. The barista even threw in a tissue before sliding into the booth next to him.

Akechi wanted to punch him in the face. And then kiss the infuriating bastard senseless after.

He settled with kicking his shin under the table. A petulant pout graced his lips.

“You win this time, thief.”

“Oh honey,” Akira laughed low, speaking quietly enough that the other thieves couldn’t hear over their own conversations. “Don’t I always?”

* * *

 

Akechi didn’t remember how he managed to drag himself to his apartment. The skies were dark by the time he got to his door. As it turns out, parties with the Phantom Thieves were as exhausting as a Mementos run. Unlike the reserved face of camaraderie they had during Sae’s palace, the thieves felt much more open and honest. Akechi even dared to think he got drunk off the atmosphere.

He felt like he was allowed something for the first time. He was allowed to feel ‘normal’ for once. Or at least as normal as a teenager could get while battling cases by day and shadows by night.

Shadows. Akechi frowned. During the festivities everyone decided to scout out Shido’s Palace tomorrow, and he wasn’t looking forward to it one bit.

“You’ve gone soft.”

Akechi froze. His hand laid still on the doorknob, key left jammed in the lock. A suited figure stepped out from the corner. It was a tall, lithe man, black hair slicked back and a thin frown on his lips. He couldn’t have been older than his mid thirties. Akechi thanked whatever deity watched him that Morgana stayed behind with Akira tonight. Amamiya was a different beast all together compared to Shido'd other hires.

“Amamiya.” Akechi greeted and hoped his voice sounded calmer than he felt.

He worked with him on a number of cases. Amamiya was one of the few that knew the inner workings of the Metaverse within Shido’s circle. A Cleaner, though he was surprisingly more amicable than the others in Shido’s payroll.

The detective spent a great deal of time under his watch when he first offered his skills to Shido’s cause—no doubt a safeguard in case he chose to lash out against his client. They became amicable enough in the two years following. The two eventually fell into an unspoken agreement: Don’t become a problem.

And judging by his timely appearance, it looks like Akechi became just that.

“I thought you were assigned to Tatsumi Port Island?” Akechi asked. Innocent question enough, though the implication wasn’t lost on the older man.

“I was until a certain Prime Minister called.”

“He’s not Prime Minister yet.” Akechi corrected, and quickly regretted it when he saw the corners of Amamiya’s lips twitch.

“‘Yet’? And here I thought it was practically secured.” He crossed his arms and eyed the detective with a critical look. “You’re scheming again.”

“Aren’t I always?” Akechi replied. The Cleaner didn’t look one bit amused by his pleasant evasion, but at the very least he let the matter drop. “Anyway, I have school tomorrow so—”

“I read the report. Kurusu Akira, was it?”

Akechi sucked in a sharp breath. He didn't have to pretend to sound on edge. “Yes…?”

“From Inaba?” Akechi hoped his poker face was in place. He didn’t trust his voice anymore and nodded instead. The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit…”

“What?”

“Ah, nothing…” Amamiya shifted uneasily. It was the first time the detective ever saw him so uncomfortable. “I just have some major explaining to do…”

Akechi blinked rapidly, not quite expecting that answer. “You knew Kurusu?”

His expression turned wry. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He snapped his mouth shut, but there was no going back. He searched the Cleaner’s face for any sign of hostility or suspicion, but he only regarded Akechi curiously. He eventually shrugged and pulled out a small black envelope from his blazer pocket.

“Anyway, I’m only here to deliver your next target.” Amamiya passed him a black envelope.

“In person? I’m touched.”

The Cleaner held on a touch longer with a strange expression on his face. “I’m warning you, Akechi. Whatever you’re planning, don’t become someone I have to deal with.” Unlike the threat Akechi expected, his tone was thick with reluctance.

“I know…”

As quietly as he appeared, Amamiya turned the corner and walked off into the night. Akechi watched him retreat for a beat longer before going inside. His earlier pep was long gone, and he felt the all too heavy weight of fatigue. Akechi never felt so vulnerable in the privacy of his own home. If Shido pulled Amamiya from his operation in Tatsumi Port Island, then it was only a matter of time before he investigated in full. Persona-user or not, that Cleaner was a force to be reckoned with.

The only thing heavier than his stress was the envelope in his hands. He had hoped that the upcoming election would put a halt to his mental shutdown targets. Quite frankly, he wanted to put this behind him, but leaving this target unchecked would put Shido on high alert. His Palace would be swarming with shadows if he was suspicious in the slightest.

Akechi shook his head. He’d figure out what to do when he wasn’t so tired. He tore the seal and pulled the paper out, only to stumble backwards and choke on the quiet whimper that escaped him. The heavy cardstock slipped from his fingertips and landed face-up on the floor. His target’s name was printed in the blackest of ink.

 

Sakura Sojiro

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU territory is engaged ayyyy. Not a lot of Shuake here, but you'll get plenty of that in the Palace. 
> 
> Again, sorry this is almost a month later than I promised. I got a rush of manuscripts at work that had a ton of problems, so I couldn’t sneak as much writing. Plus this whole chapter got rewritten, thus my preview on tumblr isn’t really here. Shido’s palace was supposed to start here, but it'll happen soon...


	11. Undead Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song fits him so well it’s painful. Go listen to it now. 
> 
> This chapter is quite rough, but I'll be busy taking care of my sister's house while she's on her honeymoon for a while so I won't have easy access to my computer. I figured I should post this now

Akechi was no stranger to sleepless nights. Part of the reason he was so studious was because he buried himself in books and work when the choking night seemed to swallow him whole. But even his books couldn’t lull him into an exhaustive sleep tonight. The bedsheets strangled him like a straight jacket, tight enough to immobilize, never enough to kill. He kicked the blanket to the side and stared at the ceiling.

The card remained untouched on the floor. 

Akechi pinched the bridge of his nose. Pain stabbed behind his eyes, but he still reached for his phone and opened the Phan-site regardless. The forums continued to buzz. The news would be covering this for quite some time. The perfect opportunity for a low-profile assignment. Shido timed his next victim well.

It was only a matter of time before Shido’s men checked on LeBlanc. Unlike the politicians he culled, the news hounds could care less about an old barista having a mental shutdown. They would confirm Sojiro’s death in person. Which meant...

Futaba

Akira was dead for all they knew, but if they somehow traced her IP from the station...

“They won’t touch her.” He tried to convince himself with a shake of his head. If they didn’t deal with Wakaba personally, then there was no way they’d do it for a harmless 16 year old girl; especially after failing in Akihabara. It was too risky. Too close to the election. 

 _They’ll make_ you _do it._

Shit.

That’s it. That’s why he pulled Amamiya from the Kirijo investigation in Tatsumi Port Island. If Shido suspected any sort of mutiny on his part, he’d be the only one with enough knowledge of the Metaverse to intervene. And if Amamiya actually knew Akira like he suspected, then it was only a matter of time before Shido found out the morgue was missing a corpse.

His phone screen dimmed from disuse. A momentary reprieve on his eyes, though his heart still churned in tumultuous turmoil. Akechi stood abruptly and stumbled over to the bathroom. He opened the tap and ran freezing water over his hands, scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing at the thick red stains on his skin.

_Miyazawa Atsuko. Makigami Kazuya. Kusajishi Kensuke._

He’s long forgotten all the names of his targets, but never their faces. He remembered their shadows and how their twisted nature manifested in the Metaverse. He remembered all the savage blows and vile curses he endured by himself.

 _Tomohisa Aso. Wakaba Ishiki. Okumura Kunikazu_.

The faucet screeched shut. Akechi stole a glance at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced. He looked deathly pale, save for the dark rings of exhaustion under his eyes. It felt like inky black tar would dribble down the corners of his lips and eyes any minute now. Death by mental shutdown seemed fitting for someone like him.

“Not yet…” He murmured and tore away from the mirror. Akechi crawled back into his futon and prayed for sleep to claim him soon. Even Shido understood that Akechi wasn’t _that_ fast with his targets, and the detective doubted the barista even had a Palace. He’d have to scour the floors of Mementos for one civilian out of nine million. Hopefully that excuse would buy him some time.

The answer was so simple: get rid of Shido. He could do it. It wouldn't be easy, but he could solve everything by triggering a mental shutdown. But the Phantom Thieves didn't kill. And he was so tired be playing the role of betrayed and betrayer. Tired of playing sides. 

Akira’s hurt expression flashed for a brief second behind his eyelids. Akechi’s fingers twitched, as though reacting to the feel of his phantom fingers on his skin. Eventually his eyes shut tightly in a strained effort to ignore the lingering ache in his chest.

”I’m a mess.”

* * *

“You’re doing it again.”

Futaba plucked the controller out of Akira’s hands. It took a moment to register that his thumbs were still twiddling in midair before he blinked out of an automated daze. The TV screen read ‘Game Over’ whilst it played a dramatic orchestral tune. Morgana raised his head from his spot on the bed, but remained silent. Akira coughed, scrambling for an excuse when he knew he was already caught out. The redhead didn’t even give him a chance. She grabbed the spare controller and settled next to him on the couch before booting up a co-op session. Akira scowled when he saw the stage she chose.

“Axis Mundi? Seriously?”

“I thought I taught you how to beat this already?” She rolled her eyes, but changed the stage to the Altar at his request. Futaba took the lead while Akira’s avatar lagged a few steps behind. Her tongue peeked out in concentration as both of them carefully climbed the Altar.

“So what’s eating you?” Futaba asked once it looked like Akira grasped the flow of the stage. His character faltered for a second before it climbed up another layer.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” he shrugged and clicked his tongue when she nearly dropped a block on his head.

“Puh-lease. You’re a wreck.”

“And you’re supposed to be at home.”

She snorted. “It’s not like I have anything better to do before we head into the palace tomorrow.” A block cracked under his character, but it was too late to move to safe ground. Akira’s character fell down the pit and the screen shifted to black. Game Over. He sighed and set the controller down. Futaba did the same and shifted closer. “Hey…Talk to me."

“I’m fine.” He lied smoothly. Morgana hopped off the bed and settled on his lap.

“He can’t sleep.” Morgana corrected. Akira glared, but the cat didn’t back down. “You can’t keep pretending nothing happened!”

“I said I’m fine!” Akira snapped, but his flash of irritation died when he saw the shared hurt on their faces. He took his glasses off and slouched back on the couch, wincing a little when some of his injuries disagreed with the position. His eyes bore holes in the creaky ceiling. “I sleep enough.”

“Very convincing.” She raised a brow. For a moment he forgot that this was the same girl that couldn’t leave the familiar streets of Yongen by herself just months ago.

“It’s not the interrogation that’s bothering me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Akira replied.

“Well something is bothering you.”

Something indeed. Even now, the sounds of a gunshots and heavy machinery rang in his head. He heard creaking gears and shattering glass. Even if he plugged his ears, horrible images branded his eyelids. A heavy metal door. Red flames. Red blood. Red, red and more red. But worst of all, it felt so familiar that he couldn’t just wave it off as a fever dream.

_“Let us rouse the memories you once chose to burn away…”_

He never feared the Velvet Room more.

“Can…” Futaba squeaked. She cleared the hesitation from her throat and willed herself to stop fiddling with her hands and glasses. Her nervous ticks. “You’ve helped all of us through our problems. You listened to us. Didn’t judge us.” She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin at the top of them. “It goes both ways. Whenever you’re ready to talk, we’ll be there for you. You know that, right?”

Akira blinked rapidly to banish the stinging of his eyes. He chuckled and raised both hands to ruffle the tops of Futaba’s and Morgana’s heads respectively. “Thanks.”

Morgana puffed his chest out and beamed. “Well someone has to take care of you. You’re too self-sacrificing for your own good!”

“I’ll try to be more honest,” he promised. Akira hesitated for another moment before adding. “I saw something during the interrogation. I hardly remember what exactly, but it really…” he trailed off and shivered. “Something’s not right. _I_ don’t feel right.” Akira swept a hand through his hair as he stared at the Game Over screen. He flexed his hand opened and closed before pressing it into his chest. It trembled against the painful drumming of his heart. He laughed harshly. “Silly isn’t it? We haven’t even stepped into Shido’s palace and yet…”

Futaba reached out and forced him to look at her by squishing his cheeks together, taking care to avoid his healing cut. Her brows pinched together as she leveled him with a stern look. “If you really thought that, then it wouldn’t be eating you like this.”

“But—“

“No buts!” She squished his cheeks even more. “Shido’s our biggest mark yet. It’s only natural you feel that way.”

 _It’s not Shido I’m worried about_ , he thought. His expression twisted into something bitter, but he quickly covered it up with a defeated sigh. He gently pried her hands away from his face. “I guess you’re right…”

“I know I’m right.” she countered cheekily. “Joker might have stolen my heart, but Akira is the one who saved me. No matter what you think, we don’t just look up to you because you’re our leader.” Futaba winked. “Likewise, I bet Akechi had a thing for a certain barista long before he started chasing your leather-clad behind.”

Akira covered his face with his hands. “I knew I shouldn't have let you bug LeBlanc…”

“And rob me of this goldmine of blackmail?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I will if I find out you rigged my room.”

She grimaced. “Oh don’t worry about that. I got rid of those bugs months ago.”

“Months ago…?” He blinked. He counted backwards until the timeline clicked in his head. “You didn’t…”

“You smitten kitten.” She cooed. Futaba and Morgana preened at the thief that squirmed under their teasing scrutiny. “You’ve got it baaaad.”

“I’m doomed to be blackmailed for the rest of my life.” Akira groaned. The tips of his ears turned shockingly red, and Futaba couldn’t believe that this was the same boy that could steal hearts with the snap of his fingers. Akira exhaled slowly. “You're okay with it?”

"With what?"

"With Goro.”

She nearly released the scoff from the back of her throat until she saw the seeking approval in his gaze. A muscle in her jaw twitched.

It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it before. Futaba harbored two years of resentment for her mother's killer. They tore her mother away for what? Information? Spite? Akechi provided all the data he could on her mother's research. Every theorem she dreamt. Every diagram and reference she drew. Wakaba was a visionary, if not eccentric at times. Thinking back on it now, it would have been easier to mark her 'suicide' as pure madness as opposed to maternal psychosis. 

Futaba knew he did it long before their trip to Akihabara. She had no proof, but she knew. She saw the evidence as plain as day in the way Akechi looked at her. Guilt. Regret. Pity. But more painful than anything else, she saw a boy who thought himself undeserving of forgiveness.

Punishment never suited the crime.

"He's still a twink." She cracked a small smile. "But I'm not gonna find another brother-in-law that can deal with your sass."

"Thanks, sis..."

She gently leaned her head on his shoulder. “Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

_November 24, 2016_

“Guys,” Akira crossed his arms over his chest and quirked a brow at his team. “I’m supposed to be dead and I look less suspicious than the lot of you.”

Akechi couldn’t help but agree, though he felt oddly exposed without his normal attire. He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of the black hoodie he borrowed from Akira. The washed out grey jeans he wore were his own, as he swore he drew the line for borrowing his clothes right there (much to Akira’s dismay).

“Glad to know you’re not worried.” Ann hissed. Akira lifted his hands up in defense.

“Hey, I never said that!”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ryuji glanced around warily. “I dunno...maybe we should’da come later?”

“Where’d your enthusiasm from yesterday go?” Yusuke asked.

“Shuddup,” he huffed. “It’s just… Don’t you think we stick out right now?”

“Sure. We can come back at night,” Morgana piped. “Because nothing screams suspicious about a bunch of teenagers loitering the Diet Building at night.” The cat quickly ducked his head into Akira’s bag when the track star made a mad grab for his ears.

Akechi studied the guard rotations near the Diet Building. He recognized a few, but others looked freshly hired. That couldn’t bode well at all, considering how long it took him to worm his way into their good graces for the past two years.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Akechi asked once more. His gaze lingered on Akira for a moment longer. The cut on his cheek was healing nicely, but Akechi knew that the bruises under his jacket were still hurting quite a bit.

The thief shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle. Besides, we’re only scouting the place today. In and out.” He looked around their circle. “Any objections?”

“We have a decent amount of time before the election,” Haru agreed. “No need to rush.”

“It sucks, but I guess you’re right.” Ryuji folded his hands behind his head while tipping backwards. “It’s all you, Akechi.”

Akechi took a shuddering breath before activating the metaverse app. “Shido Masayoshi. Diet Building…” He hesitated, needing to take another second to prepare himself. “Ship.”

_[Candidate found. Beginning Navigation.]_

Immediately, their surroundings distorted into swirling shadows of red and black. No matter how many times they entered the Metaverse, the waves of disorientation upon entering were unavoidable. It was doubly so for particularly distorted palaces.

Once the fog cleared, the thieves blinked away the haze over their eyes and looked around.

“Did anything change…? We went in, right?” Ryuji asked.

“The security guards seem to be gone, but it’s difficult to tell for certain…” Makoto tapped her chin. “This seems to be similar to what happened with Sis’s Palace.”

“But this time, the Diet Building remains unchanged.” Yusuke shook his head before diverting his attention to Akechi. “You’ve been here before, correct?”

But the detective wasn’t beside them anymore. They spun frantically and spied Akechi turned in the opposite direction of the Diet Building, staring off into the distance just past the now-open gate. The other thieves followed.

Futaba was the first to catch up to him. She tugged at his sleeve and spoke in a worried tone. “Hey, warn us before you run off!” He gave no response. Instead, he pointed in front of him. Futaba looked to where he was looking and gasped. Behind her, the others also realized the scenery.

Water. Japan was reduced to a sea of decrepit buildings and drowning highways. The skies bled crimson and the air felt thick and heavy, as though weighted with the fog of war—or the aftermath of such. Even the wind carried a solemn song of mourning, a melody it played for an empty audience.

“Even though this country may sink, he alone will survive,” Haru murmured, feeling the all too familiar sting of despair bubbling in her chest. “That’s what this cognition is about, huh…”

Ryuji rushed over to the railing, leaning over as if a closer look would change the scenery before their very eyes. “This is bullshit…! ‘A country that children can be proud of’ my ass! It’s completely sunken in his head! If a guy like this stands above everyone, we’re seriously done for!”

The ship barely scraped by a large skyscraper. The thieves were close enough to see their fragmented reflections in the cracked glass panes. Ann folded her arms, not witholding an ounce of contempt for the hopeful prime minister. “This is beyond ridiculous…”

There was a reluctant pause, but everyone shared the same thought as they glanced at the detective, who remained silent ever since entering Shido’s palace. He stepped forward to place a gloved hand on the cold railing, eyes hollow and lips drawn into a thin line. He had no words to placate them—no weak excuse. He _had_ seen this scenery when he first entered Shido’s palace. He saw the wreckage and inevitable ruin that would befall Japan if the politician rose to power. And yet he still chose to forsake it all for a justice he no longer believed in. He closed his eyes and plugged his ears.

What was he fighting for? What was he doing for the past two years?

His grip tightened along the frigid railing and his lips curled in barely concealed self-loathing. He’d never been more glad that Persona users could not harbor a palace. If Shido’s heart was as twisted as this, he couldn’t imagine how vile his own heart must look.

“Not exactly my idea of a vacation, but at least it’s free.”

Akechi whipped around, bewildered and speechless at Akira’s light hearted joke. Did he not see the destruction around him? Did he not realize that this scenery was reflective of the man running for prime minister? That was when he saw it: the stiffness of his smile. The spark of anger in his eyes. There was a storm brewing that was barely held back by an air of caution.

 _This is not the time. Keep the embers burning. You’ll have your chance._ Akira said all this and more in that one glance. Akechi felt his white-knuckle grip gradually loosen until it fell slack to his side.

“A Palace with not just the center of the distortion, but the entire country sunken…” Morgana’s fur bristled. “I can’t believe there’s someone with this tremendous of a desire… Be careful! This will be completely different from past Palaces!” 

Akira leaned back against the railing, a confident swagger belying the smouldering fury in his irises. “We’ve made it this far. He may be powerful, but this is _our_ turf.”

“You’re certainly fired up,” Akechi chuckled. “Regardless if we win or lose, this is our last job. Let’s make it count.” As everyone broke from the huddle and turned back towards the Diet Building, Akechi lingered just a moment longer. “Morgana, a moment?” he called called while gesturing for the others to go on ahead. “Do you still wish to be human after seeing how disgusting we can be?” Morgana’s ears flattened against his head.

“I _am_ human,” he stressed, though his fang-toothed hiss did little to supplement his argument. “Besides, palaces aren’t proof of humanity’s nature. They’re proof of their potential. Haven’t you noticed?”

“I’ve noticed that every palace I’ve stepped foot in is a vile affront to what you call ‘potential’.” Akechi frowned, unable to grasp Morgana’s meaning. The anger in the cat’s eyes simmered down, and Akechi recognized the sage-like countenance in his gaze once more.

“Have you stopped to wonder why Persona users don’t have palaces?”

Of course he had. He spent years trying to analyze every page of Wakaba’s research. He spent years as a lab rat for the same crippling drug they used on Akira. He spent years looking up his name in the MetaNav in fear that one day it would appear. 

“We can’t have palaces. It’s impossible.” Akechi answered. Morgana’s tail twitched once before he turned around.

“If only.”

Akechi’s skin crawled and a violent shiver rattled him to the bone. Both Robin Hood and Loki thrummed at the cat's insinuation, but Akechi couldn't make out the meaning for their restlessness. It felt like a child was poking a beehive for want of honey and ignoring the danger. Morgana already caught up with the others before he could demand an explanation.

Even if he could, Akechi wasn’t sure if he wanted one.

 

* * *

He had grown numb to the extravagant gaudiness of Shido’s palace, but seeing everyone else’s baffled expressions made him crack a grin. Two giant statues greeted them at the door whilst confetti rained down endlessly from the ceiling. Party guests gathered and gossiped in tightly packed clusters, all garbed in finely tailored suits and expensive silks. He faintly recalled his own slacked jaw when he first stumbled upon this palace by himself two years ago. 

They were so engrossed in their conversations that no one paid any mind to the group of teenagers entering, nor did anyone notice the flash of blue flames that consumed them. Their masks materialized over their faces. The Phantom Thieves were in business. Akira noticed Akechi slowly reach up to touch his mask, expression unnervingly composed and unreadable. 

Ann gave herself a once-over before glancing at the people around them. “I can see why he’d already see us as a threat, but I didn’t think Shido was into the whole masquerade thing.”

“You think they’re tryin’ to be Phantom Thieves, like Haru with that Beauty Thief stuff?”

“Th-That’s not it and you know it!” Her cheeks flushed and she averted her eyes to the floor, not wanting to relive that particular memory. When she glanced back up, her eyes lingered on the detective. “Akechi-kun… Your clothes.”

“No surprise, really. We’re merely a means to an end to each other.” Akechi shrugged. “He’d never truly trusted me enough to let me freely roam his palace, although I’m more or less welcomed by most of the cognitions here.”

“‘Most’?” Futaba squinted.

“Regardless, at least we’re not going in blind. Although I find the way Shido views others quite perplexing…” Yusuke scrutinized the guests. No one seemed to be concerned about the ship's newest arrivals, unlike in palaces before this one. The cognitions in Shido’s world looked impossibly perfect. Even the residents of Sae’s palace had some sort of deformity.

Makoto nodded. “Given the insane nature of his distortion, I’m surprised they even appear as people…” 

“I’ll fill you in on what I know as we go along.” Akechi cleared his throat and added awkwardly. “...I hate to admit it, but I don’t have complete access to his palace. I can’t say it’ll be smooth sailing from here.”

“Already punning like a Phantom Thief.” Akira wiped an imaginary tear from his mask. “Give me a moment to compose myself guys…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Futaba rolled her eyes and pulled up a holo-screen.”I don’t sense any enemies on the ground floor. Let’s do some recon before spreading out.” She sent both boys a sly wink before urging the other thieves to disperse. Once out of earshot, Akechi shook his head helplessly at Futaba’s retreating back.

“She’s far too meddling for her own good.” Akechi looked back at Akira and was baffled at the torn expression beneath his mask. “What’s wrong?

“You lied.” Though he tried to keep his posture casual, there was no denying the worry in his tone. “You weren’t considered a threat before now, were you?”

“...A _half_ lie.” He admitted after a short pause. “My clothes usually don’t change until I get deeper in.”

“If he suspects you, then—”

“Focus on the mission, Joker.” he cut him off. “My safety isn’t the priority here. It’s finishing the job.” 

“I know.” Joker grit out. Crow walked past him and rejoined the others, but not before letting his fingers gently brush against Akira’s in quiet apology. Promises of  _later_  were all they had. The gunshots were louder in his head now, and even the hums and whispers of his personas couldn’t drown the dreadful sounds out.

A movement caught his eye and he fought the urge to whip around. His gloved fingertips brushed against the cool hilt of his dagger. Just his imagination? No. Joker would never mistake the bloodlust in the air. He focused his third eye near the staircase and faintly saw a glimpse of something that didn't quite belong among the patina of wealth that surrounded him. 

"You're awfully smart for a cognition..." he said to no one in particular. He didn't hear a response, but now he was sure that someone was watching nearby. Joker casually adjusted his gloves before tapping the edge of his mask. "Or maybe cocky?"

This time he was sure of it. He made out the faintest of movements in the shadows cast by Shido's statue. Whether or not the presence was human was another story.

"Yo, Joker! What gives? We're almost ready to meet up in the safe room." Ryuji called. Immediately, the presence vanished and Akira visibly relaxed. His skull masked companion jogged over and leveled him with a strange look. "Were you talkin' to someone just now?"

"Nah," Joker clapped Skull on the shoulder. A wide grin stretched painfully across his lips. "Just my own shadow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who recognized the game that Akira was playing?
> 
> ANYWAY, I hope you guys will be okay with me using plot convenience to skip over some parts of Shido’s palace...
> 
> Also, I know I haven't spoiled you lately with the sweet, sexy Shuake/Akeshu action that originally drew y'all in. It's coming...


	12. The Games We Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being tired and stressed is probably the worst mindset to have before posting an update, but I've been staring at this chapter for over a month and I just want to start on 13... Don't kill me for the shitty pacing pls lol

_November 26, 2016_

All things considered, Akechi shouldn’t feel proud about being able to stroll through Shido’s Palace without a care in the world. He shouldn’t feel relieved that Shadows didn’t even glance in his direction while they turned their bloody claws on the other thieves. He shouldn’t be enjoying Ryuji’s whining at all of the above.

But let it be known that Akechi loved supersede expectation.

Two weeks. Five targets. While the challenge sounded daunting, it was less so with Akechi’s infuriating ability to sweet talk cognitions into doing exactly what he wanted. Which brought them to their current predicament: the first letter of introduction.

Akechi strolled up to the restaurant host stand with confidence and poise in every step. The host straightened up from his presence alone and awkwardly fumbled with the seating chart. “How may I help you, sir?”

“My guests and I were planning on speaking business terms over dinner,” The lie slipped past his lips smoothly. “I don’t suppose you have a table available?”

The host regained some of his nerve upon eyeing the entourage that stood behind Akechi and tapped his chart. “I might be able to squeeze you all in...but I’ll need to see proof of membership first.”

“Membership? We ain’t got that…!” Ryuji whispered loudly before Ann quickly shushed him with a heel to his toes. Akechi didn’t so much as blink as he pulled out a matte onyx card from his sleeve and slid it across the counter. As the host reached for it, Akechi leaned closer and whispered something in his ear. It was a wonder how the sharp beak of his mask didn’t scratch against the host.

“Oh! My apologies for holding up such honored guests!” the host seemed to scratch out a number of names off the bottom of the list and eagerly gestured for the others to step in. It was a wonder how the paper didn’t tear under his enthusiastic pen. “Please, come in. Ooe-san will be very pleased!”

The thieves filed in obediently, but no less cautious. Cognitions were harmless for the most part, but there was something off in the way the guests eyed them from their tightly formed circles. Their air of indifference masked an unmistakable hunger all too similar to the way Shadows eyed them in Mementos.

A waitress wasted no time coming over to their table. She leaned in close to Akechi, breasts spilling from her blouse, and whispered something quietly into his ear. Akira saw every tick and tell in his face and committed each expression to memory. The quirk of his brow? Incredulity. The rhythmic drumming of his fingers? Impatience. Licking his bottom lip? Akira swallowed hard at the sight. He knew that predatory hunger and wondered if it was reflected on his own face. Akechi caught his inquisitive gaze and smirked.

“I look forward to it,” Akechi purred and went so far as to pull the mask off his face to press a chaste kiss against the back of her palm. The waitress let out a breathy sigh. Akira felt the detectives taunting gaze behind his chestnut fringe.

Two could play at that game.

Or so he wanted to say, but the vase of velvety blue flowers sitting at the table beside theirs was a blatant reminder of why this dinner date couldn’t be as romantic as he wanted. Makoto rose to the challenge of securing their first letter, but Akechi placed a halting hand on her shoulder. Somehow he managed to avoid the sharp spikes that sat there.

“Ooe-san isn’t exactly the type to handle alone… I should accompany you.”

Makoto exhaled slowly. The reluctance was obvious on her face, but when given the chance to choose between Akechi and Ryuji, she would pick the lesser of two headaches.  

Queen and Crow walked further down the dining hall towards a table near the VIP section. They looked like they belonged in that world of glittering jewels and silver tongues. But whereas the women needed flowing skirts and bloody rouge on their lips, Makoto only needed her poise and intellect. She made her biker garbs look regal next to Akechi’s own princely raiment.

Crow smoothly pulled a chair out for Queen, chuckling at the barest crack in her calm facade. “Walking straight into the lion’s den right from the start? You are indeed Sae-san’s sister.”

“You’re not so cool-headed yourself.” She retorted, but it lacked the discomforting heat that she used to regard him with. They may have put aside their differences, but she wasn’t about to let her rivalry with the ace detective vanish so easily. “What did you say to get us in without a membership card?”

“A detective never reveals his secrets.” Akechi put a finger to his lips before flagging down a waiter. He gestured to Makoto. “Please. Ladies first.”

“I’ll have the sauteed foie gras and the roasted lamb, please. And perhaps some black tea to start.”

“Excellent choice, madam. And you, sir?”

“I’ll just have a cafe au lait and the fallen cheese souffle.” He didn’t bat an eye and Makoto’s withering stare and attributed his order on a partiality for sweets and a weak stomach. It took no time at all for their drinks to arrive first, and he thanked the still swooning waitress with a charming wink. The smell was intoxicating and the warmth of the beverage seeped through his gloves, but the taste was...off putting to say the least. The coffee burned unpleasantly in the back of his throat and reminded him of the crystal bottles in Shido’s office. Crow fought the lightheadedness it brought on and raised a hand to stop Makoto, who had her tea raised to her lips. “Queen… Don’t drink anything.”

Before she could question it, a deep rumbling voice cut through the hushed background gossip.

“On whose permission are you sitting there, brats?”

Crow and Queen turned towards the newcomer with cool expressions. The man stared down at them, arms crossed over his pinstriped suit jacket. His associate was scrawny in comparison, but both sported thin, glasslike masquerade masks of purple and gold.

“Be careful how you speak, Ooe-san.” Akechi smiled serenely at the built politician. He raised his mug and forced himself to take another casual sip. “The authority of us ‘brats’ might just outrank yours…” The whiskey aftertaste almost made him gag, but he forced himself to exhale slowly. The burn was less pronounced this time. Makoto flinched in his peripheral vision, and he wondered if she could smell the harsh liquor on his breath.  

“What did you just say?” Ooe hissed. Makoto looked like she was about to downright murder Akechi across the table, whose cool expression was tarnished only by the subtle flush hidden behind his mask. He knew Shido had a love of drink, but he didn’t think it would spoil his favorite beverage in a cognitive world. He would have to make a trip to LeBlanc to wash the taste out.

Perhaps with more than just coffee.

“I apologise. you’ll have to excuse my tasteless joke,” he amended, though his response was slower than he was comfortable with. Akechi gestured to Makoto. “My client and I were actually talking about you. She would love a letter of introduction to meet our captain, you see.”

“Your client?” Ooe eyed Akechi warily. He nodded meaningfully, and the politicians expression twisted into something bright and sinister at once. “I didn’t recognize you under the mask but you wouldn’t be by any chance…?” Akechi arched his brow, daring Ooe to finish. The politician swallowed hard and turned back to the less intimidating of the pair. “My apologies miss. I didn’t realize I was speaking with a woman of such status at your age.”

“No offense taken,” she replied carefully. Makoto fought the urge to glance at Akechi, who seemed all too pleased with himself. Queen offered Ooe with a courteous bow and opened up a conversation on the recent Mental Shutdowns. She continued the lie with saccharine words and disarming smiles. This went far beyond being a Niijima. Akechi felt every thought-out deception and intellectual quip. But above all else, he saw crimson irises tempered by furious resolve. A rebellious heart that would bleed to the last drop before it stopped beating.

He wondered how Sae still thought of Makoto as a child in need of babysitting.

“Ah, the mental shutdowns.” Ooe glanced nervously at Crow, who quietly continued sipping his coffee. Ooe continued. “While my targets themselves were unimportant, the political and economic ripples secured the removal of the past Minister of Transport.”

Bingo.

“You know, my sister works at the public prosecutors office. It would be a shame for her to hear your confession just now, wouldn’t it,” Makoto said. “What do you say, Ooe-San? Won’t you give us a letter of introduction?”

“You—“ his face turned an angry hue as he turned to Crow, who looked just as amused at his slipup. “Are you betraying our captain?”

“‘Betray’ is such an ugly word…” Crow finished his drink and slowly stood from his seat, vision swimming as he did. He drew his weapon and pointed its tip at the cognition. The blade thrummed with bright energy. “But I suppose it’s accurate.”

“If you want the letter, you’ll have to pry it out of my dead hands!”

“That can be arranged.”

It wasn’t Crow or Queen who spoke up, but Joker. The midnight clad thief materialized behind the politician with his gun aimed behind his head. Despite the looming threat, Ooe never turned his gaze away from Akechi. The whites of Ooe’s eyes turned charcoal black before his body exploded into bloody tar-like bits of flesh. Eight snakes exploded from the base and leered at each thief with gold-slitted irises.

“You traitor!” Yamata no Orochi hissed, black venom dripping off its fangs and bleeding holes into the carpet.

Akechi’s smile splintered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly hid it with the blue flames of his mask. Robin Hood materialized behind him. A bless skill shone on the tip of his arrow. Before he could let the spell fly, he stumbled backwards. Akechi saw Akira take a step towards him, but the words on his lips were drowned out by the angered screeching in his head.

_Traitor. Traitor. TrAitoR. TRaiTor. TRAITOR!_

The bitter taste of iron mingled with the liquor on his tongue. Akechi swiped the bottom of his lip, broken and bloody from how hard he bit down on the fragile skin. Loki delighted at the shade of crimson on his white glove. The bars of his cage rattled in his mind, making Akechi’s head throb in protest. It’s been so long since he released that aspect of himself. So long since he drowned out all his emotions in ceaseless carnage.

He missed it.

“Crow!!!”

He wasn’t sure who shouted his name, but it dragged him back from the edge. He bit down on his lip again, and this time the pain cut through his drunken haze. Robin Hood’s arrow flew and exploded into a burst of light against the the shadow’s emerald scales.  

 _Enough!_ Akechi snarled at Loki. His head throbbed once more, and he felt his control of Robin Hood’s princely guise slipping. _I don’t need you._ They _don’t need you._

Loki didn’t rebel. It didn’t spit curses at him, or taunt him, or promise him the power he craved. It _whimpered_. A low croon left its throat, and the sound alone produced a emotion he thought he buried in the depths of his consciousness.

 _Don’t leave me_.

Personas were a manifestation of the psyche. A reflection of the soul. And not for the first time, he wished his farce of Robin Hood was closer to the truth than Loki.

Akechi hardly remembered the battle. The Phantoms were efficient with their attacks, and he noted with a hint of chagrin that their movements were much more fluid now that they weren’t watching him like a hawk. He hadn’t expected the change to be so pronounced. A small corner of his mind recoiled at the thought of telling them the full truth of why he started his bloody crusade in the first place.

The touch of a phantom slid onto his shoulders from behind. The sensation wasn’t unlike the feeling of spiders crawling on your skin poised to bite at the slightest provocation.

“Did you get what you wanted?” A voice cooed sweetly. “Was it worth it?” The voice was too malicious to be Robin Hood. Too melodic to be Loki. Wide-eyed and pulse racing, the hairs at the back of his neck rose to stiff peaks. He turned.

Nothing.

“Crow? Are you okay?” Ann asked.

“Yeah.” He forced out and shook his head to rid himself of his lingering dizziness. Akechi narrowed his eyes at Akira, who was steady poised to cast a healing spell in his direction. He mirrored the expression, but let his hand fall away from his mask.

“Mona,” he called. The others flinched from the sharp edges in his voice. “Heal Crow. Everyone else do a quick check. We’re pushing on.”

* * *

Maybe he bit off more than he could chew.

Akechi took a long swig of coffee from the thermos and passed it off to Yusuke. With how easy Ooe was to dupe, he had hoped that the ones following would be similar to sweet talk. The problem was _getting_ to the other letters. He didn’t quite remember this section of the ship being so “transformative”.

“Rats. Of all the god awful things, it had to be rats…” Crow grimaced after they regained their human forms. It was bad enough that the number of Shadows were increasing the deeper they went, but his body still felt the lingering effects of his alcohol laced drink.

“Who ruffled your feathers?” Skull grinned. He didn’t buckle under the warning glare behind his red tengu mask.

“They’re filthy and horrid.” he answered shortly. He’s lost count of how many times they made the switch and he was sick of it. On top of the disorienting transformation, he hated how powerless he felt under the curse’s grip.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” Oh no. “Do it again.”

Akechi glared at the tiny creature standing just behind the borderline between the trapped corridor and a switch room. It stared up at him behind an unmistakable black and white mask. It’s nose and ears twitched, and Akechi resisted the urge to pick it up. A challenge flashed in its beady black eyes, but the prince felt no need to rise to the provocation of a mouse.

“I don’t see how you can enjoy this when you have bloodthirsty shadows just around the corner.” Akechi crossed his arms over his chest. The disdain remained on his face even after Joker stepped into the room and transformed, somehow looking less like a mortal and more like a god of mischief and mayhem.

Loki had to step up his game.

“I could say the same to you,” Akira smirked. “You seemed to enjoy negotiating with that last Shadow we fought. What was it you said? Something about knowing a great bakery just off Shinjuku?”

Akechi flushed and turned away. “I got the job done, didn’t I?” His voice cracked a pitch higher.

“I never imagined that you ran a food blog in your spare time, Akechi-kun!” Noir chirped. “You should show us your work sometime.”  
  
‘Evil’ or ‘Malicious’ were the last descriptors he’d use for Haru, but the grin that spread across her lips could only be called wicked. Akechi didn’t need to look at Futaba to know that she mirrored a similar intent. No doubt she already marked his blog for a hacking session in the near future. He’d have to check the moment they left the Palace.

“I frequented a lot of places while working on cases,” Akechi cleared his throat in an effort to salvage whatever dignity he had left. “You could say visiting the odd cafe or two turned into a hobby of mine, although I try to keep my favorites hidden from the public eye.” He glanced meaningfully at Akira.  
  
“If I recall, we met at a cafe in Akihabara a few months ago.” Yusuke tapped his chin, trying to grasp the fleeting summer memory. A lightbulb went off in Ryuji’s head and the blonde cackled. Akechi didn’t like the glint in his eyes one bit.  
  
“That’s right! That was at the Maid—“  
  
“Finish that and you won’t have lips.” There was more than one threat in his words. As much as he tried to suppress it, there was no hiding the bite in his tone. At least from Akira, who scrutinized him beneath the mask. After a moment, the thief rolled his shoulders and leaned against a nearby pillar.

“We’re heading out.”

“Aw c’mon, leader!” Ryuji whined. “I got energy to spare.”

“And _I_ need a cat nap.” Akira playfully elbowed him in the ribs before glancing at the rest of the group. “Energy or not, we shouldn’t rush this palace. If Shido has more tricks up his sleeve like with Ooe-san, we need to be at full power for the other four. Any objections?” Shrugs. Akira met Akechi’s gaze. “I thought so.”

Just the thought of leaving the godforsaken palace put his nerves in overdrive. His leg shook impatiently, and he was sure it showed on his face as they used a Goho-M to escape. It was already dark upon their return. Even the guards left their posts outside the Diet Building. It wasn’t until they left the Metaverse, where mind overrode matter, that he felt the full effects of his ailment. 

“Hey,” Futaba said softly. “You don’t look so good.”

There was an awful silence before Akechi realized she was speaking to him. He tried to force a grin, but he didn’t need a mirror to know that it was a shadow of his usual mask. It was a wonder how his knees didn’t knock together as they trembled under his weight. “Just tired… I might have pushed myself a little too hard in that fight with Ooe.”

“I’ll take him home.” Akira said, arguing that he was the safest choice. It was a tightrope gamble, but it would rouse the least suspicion compared to his other choices. No one looked for a dead man, after all. When the last of them dispersed, Akira tugged him by the arm to the closest park. Akechi followed bonelessly, allowing himself a moment of honest weakness. It was quiet, save for the fall wind in the trees and the crinkling leaves underfoot.

“I’m shocked.” Akira began drily. “You’re normally not this cooperative.”

“And you’re normally not this overbearing.” Akechi’s laugh was strange. Breathless. He didn’t resist when Akira guided him to a park bench. “Are you going to be like this the whole time we’re in Shido’s Palace?”

“Well, if you seduce another waitress I might have to lock you up in my attic.” Akira shifted. “Although I can’t imagine you’d hate that considering...” He let the words trail off. The implications were not lost on the detective, who remembered every stolen moment in LeBlanc with embarrassing clarity.

“Is there an off switch to your untimely flirting?”

“Comes with the mask, darling.”

Akechi rolled his eyes, but the playful glint didn’t escape the thief’s notice. Being this close, he reached out and playfully tugged at the cuff of Akira’s coat sleeve. “I seem to recall that you’re just as insufferable outside the suit as well.”

“I bet you’d love to find out,” Akira leaned in even closer, voice dimmed down to a conspiratorial whisper. “What I’m like _outside the suit_.” The thief relished the vivid flush that bloomed on Akechi’s cheeks, but he didn’t let it distract him too long. There was a reason why he pulled the detective aside, and it wasn’t just to share a sweet moment. “What happened back there?”

Akira watched his adam's apple bob slightly. Eventually, Akechi began to talk, the words precise and steady. Akira watched his face, the flicker of some internal truth behind his carefully chosen words. “I was careless and distracted. That’s all.”

“Don’t,” Akira’s fingers dug into his knees. “Don’t play this game with me. Not now.”

“Infuriatingly perceptive as always.” Akechi stood. He walked a few steps forward before pausing next to a lamp post, hugging his arms as he kept his back turned. Ooe’s curses bounced through his head, and he dreaded what else he would run into. “I spent years running away from the weight of my sins. Now that I’m owning up to them, it’s a little heavy to say the least.”

He heard the wooden bench creak, a sign that Akira stood as well. “A heart is a heavy burden.” Akira quoted playfully. “Need me to take it off your hands?”

“Don’t be stupid.” The detective snorted. Seconds passed with no retort, and Akechi spun on his heel. Akira’s expression was unreadable behind the glare of his glasses, and yet there was something about the way he stood that looked like he was at the very ends of his rope. He wasn’t staring at the elusive Phantom Thief that commanded an army of personas, nor was he looking at the quiet barista that found comfort in a simple cup of coffee and light-hearted banter. He was both and neither.

“Turn around.” Akechi ordered while closing the distance between them in a few long strides.

Akira jumped at the intensity in his voice but did as he was told. Slowly, shyly, arms wrapped around his midsection and a warm weight pressed against his back. Akira sucked in a sharp breath but forced himself not to move.

"I can't promise this." Akechi forced out. The raw admission of it hung in the air like a blade ready to come down at them at any moment. "You know I can't."

"I won't force you to."

"I know!" the words tore out of him. He fell silent once more, and Akira patiently waited for Akechi to find his way back to himself. "But you deserve more than what I can offer."

"...And what are you offering?"

“I can’t give you my heart.” The detective waited an agonizing handful of seconds, keenly aware of how every muscle in Akira’s back tightened. Akechi fought the urge to grin. “Because you’ve stolen it already, thief.”

Akira’s breath shuddered out of him. “You’re an asshole.” Lingering notes of panic and relief made his voice hoarse.

“And you’re surprised?”

“Hardly,” Akira replied. “But give me some warning before you drop a line like that. I thought I was supposed to be the sentimental one.”

“Don’t get used to it.” The detective laughed softly, and Akira closed his eyes to savor the sound just a little while longer. Akechi’s grip tightened. He always thought the written and spoken word contained power, but neither were necessary right now.

Akira allowed the cool evening air pass over them. The fall chill made the warmth seeping between them all the more pronounced. How far had they come? How far can they go? Ahead of him, the shadows of the park shifted in mottled shades of blue and black. Behind him was an option he never thought available to him, if he could only turn to face it.

“Let me turn around.”

“No.”

“Goro…”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Now why would I let you do that?”

“I want to kiss you.”

“...”

The arms wrapped around his stomach stiffened and relaxed in seconds. Akechi hesitantly withdrew his arms, and Akira had to reign in every instinct to spin around and devour him against the closest surface available. He raised a hand to gently trace his jawline, thumb pressed gently against his bottom lip. Akechi’s lashes fluttered closed and allowed Akira to explore at his leisure.

But instead of claiming his lips, Akira’s fingers gently turned his chin to the side. Akechi hardly had time to question his intentions. He felt them. Akira’s tortuous breath made his pulse quicken as a smile twisted against his skin.

“I thought you wanted to kiss me.” Akechi rasped, not at all surprised at how rough his voice sounded in his ears. Akira chuckled and nuzzled against his neck, relishing in this moment of vulnerability.

“I do.” He murmured reverently. “I will.” Words became more than language and shifted into something more tangible and explosive—a threat that he had no qualm about meeting, if only to find out if he would combust. Maybe Akira would burn with him.

The rational part of him screamed. There was too much at stake. Too much to lose, and the more he gave in, the less Akira would forgive him in the end. Akechi gathered the fabric of Akira’s coat in his fists to drive them apart. But then he lifted his hand to brush Akechi’s cheek, fingers sliding into his chestnut hair. He drew him in to deliver the kiss he waited so long to give—long, slow and deep. It was worlds away from their first, when emotions were wild and desperate. Akechi felt a tremor wrack his body, forcing him to come to terms with everything he wanted against what he couldn’t have.

Akechi forgot that they were standing in a park in the middle of the night. Forgot that he had to report to Shido in the morning. Forgot that a target was plastered on Sojiro’s back and he was the one to pull the trigger. But memory returned, as it always did, and the guilt of his carefully laid out plans shuddered out of him.

He lowered his chin, forcing their lips to slide apart. Akechi held himself very still. When Akira let his hand fall to his waist, Akechi reopened his eyes, pupils blown wide and breathed in tandem with the thief in front of him.

"This is enough," Akira whispered. "For now... This is enough."

The detective chose to ignore the ache that spread through his chest at the self-inflicted lie. “I’m still getting payback for stealing my heart.”

Akira laughed and kissed the tip of his nose. “Since when did this turn into a competition?" Akechi scrunched his nose in distaste, but allowed the gesture.

“I think it started the moment we met.” He mused and pressed their foreheads back together. “Or maybe even before.”

In another life. Another time. Another chance. He wondered what could have been if he met Akira just a few years earlier. How much more time would they have? Akechi breathed in the familiar scent of coffee and spice and sighed softly. He would let Akira plunder his heart over and over, if only to steal away his ability to think of such sad endings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow my Tumblr, I'm sure you know how stressful this chapter was to write. It caused such a huge update delay, and it made me rethink how I'm going to tackle the rest of Shido's Palace.
> 
> Most likely...I'm going to breeze through most of the remaining letters. MAYBE I'll have a series of Deleted Scenes, but for now I want to get to the nitty gritty plot points I've been planning for months. Hope you guys don't mind


	13. Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think I forgot about that bomb I dropped three chapters ago? Ohohoh...you poor naive reader... If I suffer, you suffer with me.
> 
> I wonder what I should call my Deleted Scenes story… Any suggestions? “Clockwork Thieves”?

_December 5, 2016_

“Whoa, look at all the slot machines...Think we can sit for a round or two?” Skull whistled, eyes glazing over with greed. The memory of Sae’s palace was still fresh, and Akechi wouldn’t deny that he also felt a rush when they hit the jackpot.

Makoto shook her head, quickly noting that unlike in the casino they had no working currency here. Not to mention that Futaba couldn’t alter the odds here, though her mischievous gleam suggested otherwise. The hacker quickly occupied her attention across the room when Queen noticed.

“Maybe we’ll find that TV station prez we heard about in here.” Futaba pulled up a holoscreen to scan for anything out of the ordinary.

“In that case, why don’t we try searching for him?” Haru scanned the small groups of guests in the entertainment hall. The crowds were smaller here compared to the main entrance and the restaurant. It shouldn’t take too long to find a guest with a gilded mask.

“May I suggest the machines towards the back of the house?” Akechi spoke before everyone split into smaller search teams. “I imagine our target will be playing on some loose slots, and those are rarely placed at the entrance.”

While the majority of the group turned to investigate the back of the hall, Akira and Akechi lagged further behind. “I probably should have asked this in Sae’s palace, but how do you know so much about gambling?” Akira asked.

“In my line of work, it’s impossible to avoid loose-mouthed officials. It comes in handy, but tiresome after the first hour of gloating.”

“Remind me not to play poker with you.” Akira’s brows lifted suggestively and he leaned in close to whisper. “Unless you’re up for the stripping variety?”

Akechi narrowed his eyes as he prepared an unimpressed comeback, but his mind couldn’t help but conjure an image of Akira losing hand after hand, and with each one an article of clothing. Despite his competitive streak, Akechi wouldn’t mind losing a round or two himself... A splash of red spread across his cheeks like rosy watercolor.

“Oh? Are you imagining it?” Joker teased with a roguish smirk. “Cute.”

“I’ll arrest you. Don’t tempt me.”

“Handcuffs? Honey, we haven’t even gotten past first base yet.”

“ _You_ …!”

“I can hear you guys you know.”

Futaba poked her head from behind a pillar and tapped her com, the same one that sat in their ears. She snickered at Akechi’s mortified expression. “Don’t worry. They didn’t hear anything since I have full reign over the channel, but you might wanna tone the flirting down just a notch, Joker.”

“I’m a gentleman thief. Being a flirt is an occupational hazard.”

“You might want to stick to your day job…” Akechi rolled his eyes.

But a job was a job, and it was high time they got back to it. Once the three of them caught up with the others, they caught sight of a man with a familiar purple mask accompanied by two others.

“He’s the president of a TV station, isn’t he? Like the one we saw on that field trip?” Ann asked, already grimacing. She wasn’t looking forward to getting this letter after their less-than-savory encounter with the formal noble at the pool a few days ago.

“He gives letters of introduction to executives of companies who are willing to sponsor his programs. Not exactly a condition we can meet…” Makoto sighed, already trying to formulate ways to get around the problem. Even Akechi agreed. Unlike with Ooe, he was hesitant to dive into this one without a plan; especially considering the backhanded nature of this particular cognition.

Ryuji rolled his shoulders before gesturing to the mace strapped to his back. “Wanna just beat it outta him?”

“Let me handle this.”

All eyes turned to Haru. She was no coward, but it was rare for her to step up like this. Even Akechi, the newest addition to the group, knew that her strengths lay elsewhere. But it didn’t take much to piece together how she intended to negotiate with the cognition. His brows furrowed and a strong rebuttal hung at the tip of his tongue. 

 _You don’t need to do this,_ he wanted to tell her. _You don’t need to prove anything._

Haru studied Akechi for a beat longer before taking her axe and handing it to him. He hesitantly accepted it while maintaining a baffled expression.

“Hold on to it for me.” She smiled, though it was tinged with a dark threat. ”I might need it later.”

The other thieves parted the way for her whilst taking defensive positions nearby. Akechi took a particularly close position by a nearby poker table, perfectly blending in with the incessant chatter of gambling guests. It seemed no one even cared he kept an axe at the ready...

“I am Okumura Haru, daughter of the president of Okumura Foods. I believe we sponsored you as well.” she spoke smoothly, giving off the impression of a proper heiress rather than the Phantom Thief she became. Haru continued to butter up the TV Station President, offering corporate promises and highlighting his ‘success’. She felt her heart lurch with each poisonous lie that left her lips, but persevered. She just needed the letter...

“The damage almost reached up to Shido-sama himself!” he lamented, though the cruel gleam in his eyes gave his true feelings away. “President Okumura had to be cut off.”

“Cut off…?” she repeated. The words themselves trembled in the cold space between them.

“His last chance of redemption was to be used to trap the Phantom Thieves, but he couldn’t even manage that. A pity…”

By some herculean effort, Haru managed to retain her affability, but there was an undeniable hardening of her eyes. “Won’t you please give me a letter of recommendation? Once our company recovers, I will arrange for us to cooperate with you in a sponsorship role.”

“You’re just the daughter of the late president. Do you really have the authority to do that? Your employees probably resent you!” the TV station president laughed before pausing to look her up and down. Haru squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny. Akechi felt Loki shudder against his cage, and he wondered how much longer he could keep his charade up. How much longer before his mask would turn from red to black—from Prince to Assassin?

“Relax…” A gloved hand slipped through his under the table. He didn’t have to look to know whose it belonged to. “She’s no damsel.”

Akechi closed his eyes and exhaled slowly in an attempt to focus less on murder and more on the comforting warmth of Akira’s hand. The thief had slipped through the crowd as well, and it was by that one grace that kept him steady. They forced themselves to stay put as Haru endured the cognition’s sickening taunts.

“No matter… There are other means of securing business ties, and I am in your father’s debt. I can repay some kindness to his daughter.” With the third letter of introduction in hand, she murmured a gruff ‘thank you’. Counting the ones from the politician, noble, and IT mole, that left one more to collect. The problem is, who had it?

“But my, your father was truly a fool.” the president continued, not at all reading her cue to leave. Haru’s shoulders stiffened when he stood from the slot machine stool to take inspect her closer. “He couldn’t lived a life of luxury if only he’d done what he was told… Of all the suitors he chose for you, he chose Sugimura over my son. In front of the whole board, no less! It was only fair that I broadcast his mental shutdown across Japan for the humiliation. The ratings more than made up for it”

“You what…?” Haru lowered her head. The envelope crinkled under her white-knuckled grip, and it was a wonder of restraint that she didn’t tear the precious document in two. “How could you talk about my father’s death like that…? How could you treat people like—like objects for profit!?”

He laughed even harder. “This one has fire! I like that… The camera would definitely make you shine. I can see it now: ‘Overcoming death to rebuild a family company’. You’re so cute that someone will come to your rescue.” he leaned in and reached out a hand to caress her cheek. “If you beg, I’ll consider taking you as my mistress. My son won’t mind sharing.”

“I’d rather die.” she hissed and slapped his hand away, but she couldn’t control her trembling lips. Her arrangement with Sugimura had long been settled, but the memory of their ‘courtship’ still burned. Seeing the same lecherous gaze made her shudder against her vicious will.

The president made another grab for her, but a white gloved hand snatched his wrist midway. Crow was there with hatred blazing in his eyes. He looked a step away from summoning Loki, cover be damned.

“I won’t let you sully her ears any further with this filth. She’s perfectly capable of forging her own path without you.” Akechi growled, grip crushingly tight. He twisted his wrist ever so slightly against a nerve, and the president gasped in pain. The prince released him, a bored expression taking over as the president backed off whilst cradling his injury. Akechi effortlessly slung Haru’s axe over his shoulder. “But if you’re that eager for a front page story, I’ll make sure it’s your funeral.”

“Crow…” Haru breathed. Sure enough, the other thieves huddled protectively nearby. The sight nearly mirrored her awakening in her father’s palace, except this time her father’s assailant was the one holding back the monster in front of her. Her Persona, Milady, shrieked loudly in her heart—begging to unleash a torrent of bullets upon the men that thought to claim her like a prize to be won.

“Are you those cursed thieves!?” the president sneered.

Joker tipped his mask playfully. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure meeting you, but I’ve never been a fan of fake news.”

The president released a monstrous shout before his body liquified and morphed just as Ooe and the noble did. His Shadow form was nowhere near as grand as Ooe, but Joker was well acquainted with how vicious Hanuman could be; especially when accompanied by two Garuda. Fleshy blobs scattered nearby, nearly striking Yusuke who side-stepped in disgust. Ann attempted to ground one Garuda with her whip, but it tumbled through the air just out of reach.

Akechi passed Haru her axe, but she opted to summon her Persona instead. Her mask burst into blue flames as Milady materialized behind her. She quickly fired off a Psiodyne spell towards the TV Station President. Disorienting shapes and colors swirled on one concentrated point, but the shadow shrugged it off without so much of a flinch.

“Is that all?” The shadow sneered before going down on all fours. The thieves braced themselves, but instead of targeting them he caused his Garuda companions to rage. Their golden plumes turned crimson while their claws sharpened like hardened obsidian. Makoto narrowly dodged one that dove towards her, though a talon just about nicked her arm.

“Looks like someone needs to take a chill pill.” Joker said. Yusuke took the hint and whisked his mask away. Icy spears rained down on their foes. The enraged Garuda narrowly avoided the majority of the assault, but Hanuman took the full brunt of the attack with a pained screech. He dropped to a knee, dizzy and weakened.

“Alright, Fox! Super effective” Futaba cheered. “Now’s your chance to follow up!”

“Time to bust loose, Captain Kidd!” Electricity sparked beneath him before striking the Garuda from above. Lightning pierced their wings straight through, crippling their flight and hurtling them to the floor. The battle was decided in a matter of minutes, much to everyone’s surprise. This one put up less of a fight than the others.

 _Something’s not right…_ Akechi pondered to himself while the other thieves basked in their easy victory. He expected the battles to be easier now that he had comrades at his side, but a fierce nagging tugged at him. This was going too smoothly for his liking.

“Akechi-kun?” A gentle tap on his shoulder brought him back, and he was surprised to see that Haru was the one to do it. “I wanted to thank you.”

He tilted his head slightly, unable to mask his confusion. “I… I’m not sure I follow.”

“I think I’m starting to understand you,” she said. “You’re not helping us because it’s the right thing to do. You’re doing it out of self-atonement, aren’t you?”

His stomach flipped as waves of anxiety gnawed away at his confidence. “Did I disappoint you?” She shook her head, and he was taken aback by the amused expression on her face.

“On the contrary, I’m glad you’re not helping us on a whim or for the sake of the justice you used to preach.” She said, her tone playful. “I think being selfish suits you.”

Akechi raised a brow. “I can’t tell if that was meant to be a compliment or not.”

“I wonder...” Her eyes twinkled and Akechi imagined that she could easily become fierce competitor if she chose to take up her father’s mantle. “To be honest, I wasn’t against using you, just as you used us…but I think we’re beyond manipulating each other as a means to an end now, don’t you think?”

“No one would hold it against you if I you thought that way.” His wry tone matched hers perfectly. “You of all people have the right to despise me.”

“I don’t hate you, Akechi-kun.” She amended. “I hate what Shido made you do. What he turned you into.”

“Is there a difference?”

Haru’s gaze softened. “You’re changing.”

“Hey slowpokes!” Futaba called out to them with a wave. “We’re heading home! Last one out has to restock our snack stash!”

“Hell no!” Ryuji complained, but increased his pace nonetheless. “You’re like a freakin gremlin!”

Haru giggled. “They are strange, aren’t they? But I think that’s why we all fit together.” Akechi tilted his head in confusion, and she continued with pride. “They’re like family, aren’t they?”

He scoffed, but he couldn’t quite disguise the fond grin that betrayed his silent agreement. But the moment she turned to join the others, his expression immediately turned wistful.

He wished choosing your family could be that easy.

* * *

_December 7, 2016_

Sojiro’s head lifted at the sound of bells. It wouldn’t be the first time a customer dragged themselves through the door ten minutes before closing. Those that did tended to be of the sour sort—stumbling barhoppers ordering the cheapest whiskey he had, or a runaway kid looking for a place to hide from the wicked world.

Something told him he wasn’t far off the mark when he saw Akechi step through the doors. He looked positively ghastly. The detective stared and then turned away, lips moving but no sound coming out. The barista sighed. “Well don’t just stand there. Bring the sign in. I’m closing shop.”

“Oh… I can—“

“Bring the sign in.” Sojiro repeated, not glancing at him a second time in order to focus on making a new batch of coffee. The bells jingled again. Akechi propped the sign by the door and flipped the door card to “closed”. The barista gestured for him to sit before pouring him a fresh serving. Akechi accepted it with a quiet ‘thank you’.

“Sorry for coming so late…”

Sojiro chuckled. “It’s not the first time you stayed until closing. Staying after won’t make much of a difference.” He poured himself a mug and went around the counter to take a seat next to the boy. “Although something tells me you’re not here for the kid this time.”

Of course. He purposefully came on a day that Akira worked at Lady Escargot’s bar. There was no way he was going to waltz into LeBlanc any time soon. He nearly ran his cell dry by constantly checking the time.

Akechi didn’t pick the mug up. He just stared. The steam brushed his bottom lip, warm and light and inviting. Safe. He always wondered why he was perpetually drawn to LeBlanc. He used to think it was the comforting scent of coffee beans, or maybe the feeling of anonymity. Even a celebrity could feel like a normal citizen in such a low-profile cafe. It was an easy assumption make and even easier to believe, but it was a lie nonetheless.

“Do you recall the first time I came here?” Akechi asked. Sojiro raised a brow, but humored the boy with a slow nod. The detective folded his hands together, rolling his thumbs in circles as he collected his thoughts. The other man shrugged noncommittally.

“I don’t make a habit of remembering all of my customers. Should I?”

“I suppose not.” Akechi laughed. Silence again, and this one more heavy than the last. Sojiro considered lighting a cigarette, but settled for placing his box on the counter.

“Did Shido send you?”

Akechi sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t sure what was harder to hear: the truth of the statement, or the blatant admission. Sojiro _knew_. And yet he still allowed his would-be assailant through the door. Something had to be wrong in the Sakura household. Akechi felt his lips move, but his throat refused to make a sound. Sojiro sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Would you stop looking like I’m going to attack you?” He asked. A wry grin found its way on his face despite the circumstance. “I won’t, although I’m not going to roll over like a dog either.”

“Then what?” Akechi finally managed to croak. “Report me to the police? Hold me for ransom?” He laughed humorlessly. “I can’t say either of those will stop him. If not me, then someone else will come.”

“And you’re the better alternative?”

The detective paused. His eyes glazed over from a memory that Sojiro couldn’t see. “...There are worse ways to go.”

Sojiro went quiet for a moment as he stared into his cup. The dark liquid rippled with the slightest movement. “I always wondered what kind of person killed Wakaba. What kind of person would do that to her? To Futaba?” Sojiro slowly shook his head. “And now that I finally know, I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

Akechi’s fingers tightened around his mug, so tight that it was a wonder how it didn’t splinter and crack. “...I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry, then you’re probably in the wrong business.”

Akechi arched an eyebrow. “Giving advice to a murderer?”

“I’m giving a kid a choice.” Sojiro countered, swiveling the bar stool to fully face the detective. “Forget Shido. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know…” Akechi buried his face in his hands. Haru’s words repeated in his mind. His efforts were less a concept of ‘changing’ and more of a desperate grab for redemption. He wanted to find out if humans were just as capable of forgiveness as they were of vengeance. “No matter what I choose, someone will get hurt. At worst, killed.” he shuddered. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to _be_ this anymore.”

“Then be someone better.” Sojiro clapped him hard on the shoulder. “You owe Wakaba that much.”

Akechi blinked, expression cycling through pain, realization, and then finally a tentative truth. “You knew I wasn’t going to do it.”

“I didn’t ‘know’ anything,” he shrugged. “Just held out hope.”

“...Thank you.”

Sojiro made a gruff sound. “Promise me something. If it comes down to it and you have to choose...just do it.” Akechi frowned and parted his lips to object but Sojiro cut him off. “I’m not eager to die, but I’m not about to let them touch Futaba. Promise me that and we’ll be even for Wakaba.”

“...I promise.” Akechi forced out, already hating himself despite the logic behind Sojiro’s decision. 

The barista nodded. “Thanks. My regulars are always welcome y’know. Can’t keep business running otherwise.”

Akechi stood and offered the barista an apologetic but genuine smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He couldn’t bring himself to make any more promises he couldn’t keep.

* * *

“I’m home.” Akira entered with a tired sigh. Crossroads wasn’t his favorite part-time gig, but the pay was well worth smelling like alcohol and cheap perfume. Lady Escargot was especially pushy tonight about getting him to try crossdressing tonight. He shuddered at the memory. It was bad enough that he drew the attention of needy middle-aged women. He could do without men leering at him as well.

“Welcome back,” Sojiro greeted, already gesturing to the bar seat with a fresh cup of cocoa. Akira must have made a face, because the barista chuckled. “You get enough caffeine in your system. Any more and you’ll need an IV for it.”

“I don’t drink it _that_ often,” Akira rolled his eyes but graciously accepted the steaming beverage. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“You can blame your detective friend for that,” Sojiro rummaged under the counter and produced a familiar red phone. “The kid dropped by an hour or so ago for a chat and forgot it on the way out.” He tipped his hat, and all the while a smug grin stretched across his lips. “Pass it along tomorrow.”

Akira tried to maintain his poker face, but it was getting harder to keep up when Sojiro laughed the whole way home.

Akira was about to tuck the phone in his pocket when it vibrated incessantly. The initials A.R. flashed across the screen, and Akira debated picking it up. Akechi may be their ally, but he was still reporting to Shido. It would be too dangerous to oppose him outright. He doubted anyone could ID his voice, but…

The call dropped. Akira wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but rapidfire text messages soon followed.

 **A.R** : I don’t know what you did but you better jump ship

 **A.R** : You have a hit on you and I’m not about to add a teenager to my ledger

 **A.R** : For christs sake reply already

 **A.R** : Seriously, I’m not in the mood to clean your corpse tonight

It took him three seconds to call the number back, Shido be damned.

“Finally—”

“Where does he live.”

The voice grunted. “Who the hell—”

“ _Where_.” Akira growled, already halfway out the door. There was one last pause, the mystery voice making an assessment through tone alone, before he released Akechi’s apartment address. Akira cursed. The  trains stopped running by now. His attention drifted to the alley next to LeBlanc, where he knew an old relic from Sojiro’s younger years was chained to a post. Akira breathed a quick apology to the barista and pulled a lockpick hidden in his glasses frame. A new addition since his interrogation.

It felt odd to be doing this outside the Metaverse. Almost unnatural to tinker with padlocks and chains without Shadows around the corner, or the comforting presence of his mask.

But his hands never felt steadier as the lockpick slid through the mechanism. The pins tumbled and shifted beneath his expert fingers while his ears picked up the slightest shift in gears. The lock gave a satisfying ‘click’ before it fell away. Akira stared at his hands for a brief moment, expecting to see his Metaverse clothes materialize. But Joker didn’t appear. It was just Akira. He grinned.

It was high time he did some thieving of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My job's year-end publishing deadline is July 9th, so after that my writing schedule will be MUCH better. Work is just crazy so I haven't had time to really polish this chapter, but I swore to myself I'd have this chapter out before the month ends. I'm ashamed at the parts that that show it's obvious that I cut/rushed, but my head hurts lol. 
> 
> Next chapter will have some tasty plot now that I skipped over the noble, IT guy, and the TV president. Y'all know what's coming...or do you? Mwuahahaha


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